Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures
by Faithful Magewhisper
Summary: Sequel to 'Timeless' and 'Time Is of the Essence'. Molly and Arthur try to piece their marrige back together after finding out about Arthur's daughter with Minerva. Please read & review. Hope you enjoy it, Sarah, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
1. Operation Molly Is Set In Motion

Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters all belong to J. K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from this story.

A./N.: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SARAH!!!!!!!!!!!! This is all for you as a birthday present. Enjoy!!

_**Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures**_

**Operation Molly Is Set In Motion**

Molly stood at the stove in the new Headquarters and stirred the soup ferociously into a light froth. She was beyond frustrated with her husband and his behaviour lately. She understood that he wanted to get to know his daughter. She understood that he felt bad about the fact that Minerva had raised their daughter all alone and wanted to somehow make up for that.

But she resented it for it as well. She was jealous and wanted her husband for herself again. Feeling anger well up in her again, she stirred harder, spilling some of the soup over the stove.

She still loved him but the thought of 'sharing' him with another woman was driving her up the wall. She would NOT go down without a fight!

----

Arthur walked casually towards Minerva. Ok, the casualness was only a front but he prided himself on it. Minerva couldn't possibly guess that she still intimidated him as if he were 11 years old. Stopping next to where she sat at the desk in the library, he looked out the window, rocking slightly on his feet.

Minerva bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Arthur was obviously up to something. He had never been good at hiding his thoughts and feelings ... something he had given on to his children. She patiently waited for him to start, though.

After a while he watched her cautiously out of the corner of his eye and then gave himself a push.

"Minerva, I need to talk to you," he began, turning around to her.

Minerva sighed in relief that he had finally decided to tackle whatever was bothering him. Putting her feather down, she straightened her back and turned to him as well, looking up expectantly. Highly amused she watched Arthur squirm before her.

"Yes, Arthur, what is it?" she asked softly, radiating sincerity and calm.

"I need you to understand that I love Molly," he spoke rapidly. "You will never ..."

"Of course I won't!" interrupted Minerva loudly. "I never wanted to interfere with your marriage ... that is why I never told you about Sarah. I know you could never love me and that I could never love you like Molly does." She smiled softly at him and reached up to touch his cheek gently. "You are still the big boy you were back then but now you have to toughen up and get your girl back."

Arthur grinned boyishly at her and nodded enthusiastically. Before she could say more he brushed his lips against her cheek in a chaste, childish kiss and breezed out of the room.

----

After dinner Molly was staring into the fire in the living room silently, her breath and the crackling of the woods the only noises in the room. She wondered what he was doing upstairs, but then her thoughts were interrupted by a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head and smiled at the sight of Arthur covering her body with a warm, white wool blanket.

"I don't want you to get sick," he said, sitting down in the armchair across from her.

"Come here," she said, motioning for him to join her under the blanket.

He got up immediately, kicked off his shoes and sat down on the couch next to her. Gently he placed his arm across the back of the couch and rested it on her shoulders, ready to withdraw should she show any sign of discomfort. Instead Molly scooted over to him and placed the blanket across his lap as well.

"I don't want you to get sick," she whispered, leaning her head on his chest, her back secured by his left arm.

"Molly?" he asked tentatively, breaking a long moment of silence.

"Yes," she responded against his chest.

"I'm sorry for having hurt you. I acted like a fool. I underestimated you, letting you in a corner. I put my job first, asking you to be there every time I needed you. I understood only few weeks ago why you are so distant lately. It wasn't because of my job, it was because of Sarah. You had been scared by the possibility of losing me to her and Minerva. I made a horrible mistake to cut you out of my life. I should have consulted with you instead of building a wall between us. I'm sorry for having put you so down. I'm sorry for Minerva and our ... fling. I never thought you would find out about that, and it never entered my mind that by meeting her I was hurting you and betraying you. I'm sorry for everything, Molly. For not having been there when you needed me. I'm sorry I hadn't been the husband you needed," he said with a shaking voice.

His eyes shone with unshed tears and his arms had involuntarily tightened around her. He had poured his heart out to her and it felt right. Suddenly he became painfully aware that he should have done that a long time ago. The latest when they had found out about Sarah.

By the time he stopped speaking Molly sat up lightly to face him. All that she saw were his regrets and his pure love for her.

"I'm sorry too, Arthur. I should have talked to you, to let you know how I felt," she said, looking deeply into his eyes.

"No, Molly, you had been wonderful with me. Always," he cut her off, cupping her cheeks in his hands.

Molly leaned closer and kissed his mouth gently. Tentatively Arthur returned the kiss, never forcing her to do something she wasn't ready to.

"There is something I want you to know, Arthur. Something that _I_ have done," she said, pulling away from his embrace and standing up.

She walked towards the fireplace, her body illuminated by the orange light of the fire. Arthur understood that she felt unable to face him and felt his heart sink into his shoes. What could she possibly tell him that's so horrible?

"A couple of months before our wedding I went to London to buy my wedding dress. And this man asked me if he could sit in the armchair next to mine. I agreed and then we started talking. He was nice and polite. He invited me to join him for dinner and I accepted. When he walked me to the train station, he tried to kiss me. I felt bad. Seconds before his mouth touched mine, I pulled away. I ran so fast that I didn't even notice that one of my heels had broken. I took the first taxi I found and I came back," she told him haltingly, looking the entire time at the fireplace, the fire burning into her lenses.

Arthur had listened to her silently, afraid she could have confessed that another man had made love to her. But when she said she ran away before he could kiss her, he breathed in relief and stoop up. He walked towards her and put his arms around her waist gently.

"Why did you run away?" he whispered in her right ear.

It wasn't the reaction she had expected from him.

"Because I realized that he wasn't you. You're the only one allowed to kiss me and you always will. I loved you with all my heart back then and I still love you just as fiercely," she responded, turning around in his embrace.

Arthur bent down slowly, enjoying the feel of her warm breath against his face, and kissed her deeply. Their hands moved up and down each other's backs, while their kiss grew more and more passionate. Molly pulled away unwillingly, her need for air too urgent to resist.

"I love you, Arthur," she whispered against his mouth.

"I love you too, Molly," he responded, hugging her tightly.

They walked back to the couch and sat down. Arthur leaned into the soft material of the couch and Molly leaned into the warmth of her husband's body.

"Arthur?" she asked softly, looking down at him.

"Mmmhh?" he responded, covering them with the blanket again and tucking it in at her hip.

"I don't want us to go back to our usual routine," she admitted quietly.

"Me neither," he agreed.

"So what do you suggest?" she asked hesitantly, not being able to come up with a solution herself.

"I want to court you, Molly, to make you fall in love with me again," he responded, caressing her cheek lovingly.

"I'm still in love with you, Arthur," she said confused.

"I know that ... well, I hoped that. I'm still in love with you, too, but I want to be sure you're ready to take me back into your life. I don't want to force you into anything you're not ready for. I want to show you that I'm changed and that I care a lot about you," he explained sincerely.

"Are you asking me to date you?" she asked, fighting the happy tears in her eyes.

"Exactly," he said, his tears mirroring hers, "I want you to let me come back into your life slowly."

"Oh, Arthur, that's so sweet," she whispered and then buried her face in the crook of his neck.

He cuddled her gently, his chin on top of her head.

"Arthur?" she called some time later.

"Uhmm?" he mumbled.

"Do you really want to court me?" she asked.

"Not only court you. I want to ravish your heart slowly and secretly," he responded mischievously.

"Secretly?" she asked puzzled.

"You'll see…" he managed to say before pulling her down for another passionate kiss.


	2. The Seduction Begins

A./N.: Since it's still your birthday, this is the second present today. Enjoy it, Sarah!

**The Seduction Begins**

Arthur and Molly both spent a few very enjoyable moments on the couch, snuggling, cuddling and kissing passionately. Arthur wanted nothing more than to ravish his wife on the spot but he held back. It wouldn't be right to pressure her into anything she wasn't ready for ... besides his plan was to seduce her slowly and without her really realizing it.

Molly was in heaven ... or as close to heaven as she could come. Arthur's arms around her waist felt familiar and excited at the same time. No matter how many years they were married she could never get enough of him ... and his love making. She brimmed with the sexual energy between them but Arthur kept his caresses and kisses at a teasing level.

Gradually Molly relaxed in Arthur's arms and felt her eyes grow heavy. She had had a long night, guarding the outskirts of Hogwarts, and a packed day with the usual work for the order. Now in her husband's gentle arms she felt sleep wrap his arms around her, drawing her slowly into the land of dreams.

Arthur felt Molly's head bumping against his shoulder and her breathing slowing down and becoming more even. He had to smile but understood his wife's weariness. She had guarded all night long and then had run the household in Headquarters. Now she had every right to be tired and he was driven by the wish to make her relax. Arthur saw his first chance to court her. Deciding to surprise her pleasantly, he picked her up gently.

"Arthur, what are you doing?" she asked surprised, squirming a little in his arms in a vain attempt to get back down.

"Just relax and let me take care of you," Arthur whispered sensually into her ear.

His voice sent a warm shiver down her spine and she snuggled into his arms again.

----

Arthur let the water fill the tub and looked for Molly's favourite bath foam. Finding it in the counter near the sink, he grinned and then applied it generously in the current water, inhaling deeply the soft aroma of wildflowers and honey. He checked on the temperature and nodded, feeling the warm water against his fingers. It was just the right temperature.

He sat on the edge of the tub and thought for a moment. He wanted to surprise her, to make her enjoy her bath. Standing up quickly, he walked towards the little table near the sink and turned on the lamp on it, turning off the rest of the lights a moment later.

The atmosphere was warm and the faint light of the lamp illuminated only the tub's part of the bathroom, leaving the rest of the room in the darkness. But he still didn't feel completely satisfied.

Walking back into the bedroom, he took a couple of roses from the vase on Molly's vanity. Turning his head lightly towards his wife, napping peacefully on the bed, he couldn't help to smile proudly. She was sleeping on his side of the bed, a relaxed expression on her face. Her hair covered part of her cheek and her left hand lay gracefully on his pillow. Her silhouette was illuminated by the orange light coming from the curtains, her chest rising and falling regularly. He stared at her silently for a while before returning to the bathroom.

He took the petals off the stems and threw them in the tub, just over the white foam that was filling the edge of the water. He nodded satisfied at the result and then went back into the bedroom to wake up his wife.

Molly smiled weakly at the sight of her husband as he bent over her, kissing her neck softly in order to wake her up. She pressed her head deeper into the pillow to give him better access and moaned his name tenderly when he kissed a sensitive spot just below her ear.

"Good evening, my love," he whispered in her ear.

"Good evening, Arthur," she responded with a hoarse voice, the signs of her sleep still evident.

He kissed her one more time and then lifted her in his arms, ignoring her faint complaints about his move.

"Close your eyes," he pleaded softly.

She looked at him confused but then obeyed. Arthur opened the door of their bathroom with his foot and then walked directly towards the tub, sitting down on the edge.

"You can open your eyes again," he whispered and she obeyed again.

She almost gasped at the sight of the room. The sweet smell of wildflowers and honey filled the air, while the faint light from the lamp wrapped the room in a romantic atmosphere. Looking back at him she smiled in delight.

"You're really an extraordinary man, Mr. Weasley," she whispered, bending down for a quick kiss.

"And you're the most beautiful woman I ever met, Mrs. Weasley," he responded against her lips.

They shared a long loving gaze and then Arthur helped her out of her robe and dress. Molly was about to take off her underwear when he asked her to stop and turn around. He kissed her shoulders softly, his tongue flicking over her spine slowly, making her shiver lightly in his arms. Then he unhooked her lacy cream bra and let it fall to the floor. Kneeling behind her, he grasped the hem of her panties in his hands and slipped them down slowly, caressing her silky skin sensually. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the attentions her husband was lavishing over her body, her mind focused on the light patterns he was tracing on her back with his fingertips.

"You're ready for your hot bath now," he stated in a low and sensual voice right next to her ear.

Molly simply nodded and turned around to face Arthur. Her body was simply perfect, he thought to himself. Despite the fact that she was no longer a young woman her breasts were still soft and firm, her stomach flat. Her legs were still perfectly toned, the muscles under her skin tensing visibly. He couldn't help to feel attracted to that gorgeous body of hers, but he knew he had to wait. She was too special to toy with her heart.

"I'll wait for you in the bedroom," he said, looking at her while she immersed herself in the warm foamy water.

"Please stay," she pleaded with big eyes.

He couldn't help to smile down at her and sit on the edge of the tub. They talked for a while and then he washed her carefully, caressing her delicate skin with his hands. She thanked him with a long passionate kiss and then she got ready for bed. She was just about to slip under the covers when a knock on the door penetrated the quite of the room.

"Come in," she called and was surprised to see Charlie standing in the door.

Her son shuffled embarrassed from one foot to the other and refused to look up to her.

"Hi, Mum," he whispered. "I'm here to get Dad. He said he would sleep in my room for the foreseeable future."

"Yes, Charlie," responded Arthur before Molly had the chance to open her mouth, "I'll be with you in a moment."

Charlie drew his head back and closed the door gently behind him. Arthur came closer to Molly but she drew back from him and stared at him, confused beyond words.

"Why are you not sleeping here?" she asked accusingly, crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

"I don't want to rush you into anything," Arthur said softly, looking down on his hands. "I want you to be ready to take me home. I guess I'm afraid that if we make love now when things are not yet resolved you might regret later."

Molly nodded silently and reached out to him. Hesitantly Arthur moved closer and sat down on the edge of the bed next to Molly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled him gently.

"I love you, Arthur, always have and always will", she reassured him. "But you are right, I might regret making love to you later. I just thought you wanted to be close and sleep in the same bed."

Arthur chuckled ruefully.

"I can't be in the same room with you ..." he began and Molly's heart sank.

She wanted to move farther away from him but he tightened his arms around her.

"... and keep my hands off you," he ended, smiling at her softly before bending down and kissing her with all the tenderness in his heart.

Soon the kiss became more passionate, leaving them both breathless. Arthur traced a line of kisses down her jaw and neck, suckling gently on the exposed skin.

----

"You're look different" Minerva greeted her the next morning, smiling at her.

"What?" Molly asked annoyed.

She hadn't slept well without Arthur lying next to her. Often she had woken up at night, graving his touch and reaching out to his side of the bed only to find it empty.

"Yeah, you look more relaxed than usual. And … oh my God!" Ginny almost cried out, coming over and observing her mother closely.

"Ginny! ... What?" Molly asked, giving her daughter a disapproving look.

"Professor McGonagall, look at it. Oh my God!" Ginny said, turning towards her professor and pointing out a spot on her mother's neck.

"Oh my God," Minerva gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.

The two of them shared a disgusted look and then gazed back at Molly. Both of them knew that Arthur had slept in Charlie's room. A terrible thought crossed Ginny's mind and her jaw dropped a few inches.

"Now stop! Would you tell me what's going on here?" Molly said, getting really angry about being left out when it obviously concerned her.

"You have a … oh my God!" Ginny repeated and then touched a spot on Molly's neck.

Molly looked confused at her daughter and suddenly realized. Arthur had kissed her passionately when they had said goodnight on the bed, maybe he had sucked on her and then … Oh God, he had left a sign on her neck! She tried to act nonchalantly, but she had a hard time to hide her embarrassment.

"Do you have a lover?" Ginny asked directly, voicing her suspicion bluntly.

"What?" Molly responded astonished, too shocked to really comprehend her daughter.

"Where is Dad? Does he know about it? Does he know about him?" Ginny said quickly.

"Ginny, please calm down. There is no man to talk about. And by the way it's not your business," Molly responded aloud, cutting across her ramblings.

"Then so who gave you this? It sure as hell wasn't me or Professor McGonagall," Ginny argued.

"It's none of your business." Molly repeated just as stubbornly as her daughter.

In that moment the door opened and Molly jumped when Arthur walked in. Ginny, though, didn't notice and went on attacking her mother.

"So if my mother, the perfect wife, stalks around Headquarters with a hickey on her neck it is none of my business?" she insisted.

"A hickey? What hickey?" Arthur asked, looking at Molly with a puzzled expression.

"Nothing, Arthur," Molly responded, trying to hide the evidence with her hair.

"Nothing?!? You have a hickey on your neck! That means you have a man, doesn't it?" Ginny all but screamed.

Arthur looked at his daughter and then back at Molly. He took a step towards his wife and moved a lock of hair from her neck, in order to have a better look at the spot where the now infamous hickey was. He had a hard time to hide the grin that was forming on his lips. Suddenly he remembered perfectly how he had made it, how she had moaned softly while his lips had grazed the soft skin of her neck, how her breath had caught in her throat when he had bit her and how she had gasped, her head rolling to the side, when he had sucked on her. Taking in a deep breath he moved his gaze from her neck to her eyes and mouthed to his wife.

"Sorry."

Ginny was speechless and eyed both her parents with wide eyes. Suddenly she groaned and hid her beet-red face in her hands. Why hadn't she thought of that first? It was so obvious.

"Oh my God," she moaned again, "my parents are having an affair."


	3. Going Back In Time

**Going Back In Time**

Arthur was very happy with the way things went between him and his wife. It was so wonderful to break their routine and act like teenagers again. Ever since Ginny's now infamous statement about her parents having an affair, the children went out of their way to create moments alone for their parents. It was so cute to see them so happy for them even amidst a raging war.

Today Arthur had a special outing planned. Dates had been very rare after the twins had been born. No babysitter had stood a chance in hell against their children ... no-one but Lily. Arthur chuckled, remembering the young Hogwarts graduate. She had been so eager to earn extra cash to bring home to her fiancé and then husband. She would have been such a wonderful mother to Harry but that was only speculation now. He sighed miserably but quickly focused his mind and eyes on his wife.

Molly was slaving yet again over the stove in the kitchen of Headquarters. Of course some of the House-elves from Hogwarts Castle helped the Order of the Phoenix out but Molly insisted on doing most of the work since she was used to it from home. That statement alone had shaken Arthur. Was that really all he and their children had seen in Molly in the last years? A cook, dishwasher, or cleaning lady instead of wife and mother, confident and lover? Arthur was determined to remind himself and especially Molly that she was still the most important woman in his life.

It was time to spoil her a little. In fact it was high time to spoil her a lot.

Conspiring with Minerva, he had arranged for a surprise. And he was able to pay for it because of the generous raise from the Ministry. Now that Lord Voldemort's return was official and recognized by all, all Order members had been rewarded for their persistence to go against the Ministry in order to fight the Death-Eaters and warn the Wizarding Community. He grinned boyishly to himself and rubbed his hands together. It was time to prepare for his first surprise. And he had timed it perfectly for her birthday, too.

----

A tall, thin man dressed in an impeccable dark grey suit wove his way through the elegant restaurant. Rich, deep wood panelling was broken up by large picture windows that looked out on lush gardens. Each table was surrounded with oversized plush armchairs of deep burgundy. Upon reaching his destination, he bowed respectfully.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, I hope all is to your liking."

Arthur looked up to their waiter and smiled. Molly and he had often dined in this small but quaint restaurant when it had started out. Arthur had always taken his girl-friend, then fiancée, and then young wife there to eat fancy before going to the cinema or theatre. Then a few rich people had been introduced to the high cuisine of the restaurant and they had become out of their range. But this was a special occasion and Molly deserved more than the best.

"Yes, Daniel, it was a superb meal as always," Arthur replied.

"May I bring you anything else? Would you care for dessert or a cheese plate perhaps?" the waiter offered.

Arthur turned his gaze to his wife across the table from him.

"My dear?"

"I couldn't possibly eat another bite," Molly answered with a smile then turned to the man standing rigidly beside the table. "Wonderful as always, though, Daniel."

"I'm so glad. Please allow me to wish you the happiest of birthdays once again, Mrs. Weasley."

"Thank you, Daniel," she replied and with another bow the man was gone.

"So tell me, my dear, how have you enjoyed your birthday so far?" Arthur asked with a gleam in his eye.

Molly leaned across the table and covered his hand with hers.

"I've enjoyed it very much," she said tenderly, her voice low and intimate. "Thank you again for this beautiful and special gift."

"There are more surprises to come," he teased as he turned her hand over on the table top and traced the inside of her wrist with the tip of his finger. "I still say you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on and that dress Minerva and Filius charmed for you ... wow."

Molly wore a dress with a light jacket over it, since it was getting quite cool in the evening. Tiny fabric-covered buttons closed the Mandarin-coloured jacket. Underneath, the elegant, floor-length skirt showed off her slimming form and the rich burgundy wine colour of the gown was the perfect complement to her flaming red hair which was pulled back in a neat bun, held in place by many tiny needles, accentuating the sparks from her lighter streaks and those were her red had faded to blonde.

"You charmer. You know I am not the same woman you met all those years ago in Hogwarts anymore. I gained a lot of weight and have wrinkles and grey hairs," she explained, blushing furiously as she studied their hands on the table, flattered by his compliments. Temporarily distracted, it took a moment for his other statement to sink in. "Just what do you have planned? All I know is that you said we were going out."

Arthur chuckled throatily at her complete lack of suspicion.

"Well, I certainly don't plan to kidnap you."

"I'm glad to hear it," she muttered sarcastically. She shifted her gaze away from his incredibly talented hands and looked up at him from under her lashes. "And just what do you have planned?" she flirted.

"I know how much you love the theatre," he replied.

"Yes…"

"I have secured us tickets to a very important opening tonight, so …" he gazed down at his watch then back at her, "I believe we had better be going."

"Oh, you," Molly giggled and playfully pulled her hand away from his. "That is wonderful. Thank you so much."

Arthur rose then stepped around the table to pull her chair out for her. Taking her hand in his, he placed it on his arm as they walked through the restaurant.

----

When they found their seats in the Duke of York Theatre, Molly was almost dying in anticipation of this special treat. She couldn't really remember the last time she had been to the theatre.

Arthur pushed up the armrest between their two seats and said, "Perhaps this will make it more comfortable, darling."

When he sat down beside her after she was settled, the touch of his thigh against hers burned. Molly busied herself with removing her gloves and tucking them into the small evening purse that matched her mandarin pumps. The young woman beside her was chattering to her friend and ignoring them. On Arthur's other side, the gentleman was engrossed in his female companion. It seemed that Molly and Arthur were quite alone, and until the play started, she was very, very conscious of the man beside her. After the curtain rose, however, Molly, like everyone else in the theatre, had no thought for anything but the show unfolding before her on the stage. She and Arthur agreed, during the first intermission, that the show was absolutely marvellous.

Then, when Eliza (from the musical: My Fair Lady) was passionately singing "Show me!", Arthur made his move. At first Molly thought he was stretching and that the arm he was putting around her was temporary, accidental, only because she had leaned forward a little to cough. By the time she realized its true purpose, his arm had begun to seem natural resting there across her back along the top of her seat, his hand draped lightly over her far shoulder. The stroking of his fingers was gentle and gradual, even absentminded, and it didn't alarm her although it was slightly distracting. Whenever his fingers stilled, she found herself waiting for them to move again. One fingertip moved ever so slightly downward, still brushing lightly from side to side.

Molly almost forgot to breath. Her lips slowly parted, and her own hands came unclasped in her lap. She adjusted the jacket over her shoulders, and realized in a moment that his hand was underneath it, hidden from everyone. Then, oh my Lord, his hand was moving again ... BENEATH the neckline of her dress! Molly stopped breathing entirely as he continued. In a split second, there was no ambiguity, no other way to think of it or describe it. Arthur had all four fingers spread over her sensitive skin, softly caressing her.

It seemed that all her body fluids were rushing together and pooling somewhere in the vicinity of her lap. Was it really possible for a person to literally melt? Oh yes, it was and she knew it. Arthur had always had that effect on her. She drew in a long, shaky breath, the slow, exacting torture making her eyelashes flutter and her mouth go dry. It was only by a miracle that she didn't moan or cry out. All she could manage was a breathless plea, "Please...!"

While continuing his ministrations with one hand, Arthur's other hand entangled with her fingers. Molly was melting, her flesh was turning into fire and water, she was a hot puddle of inarticulate wanting and the brink was nearing, nearing.....

Then the applause began. Molly snapped out of her daze in near panic. She started to tremble as Arthur drew his arm away and began to clap. She joined in half-heartedly. The lights came up. Molly, shaking with suppressed longing, pretended to be looking for something in her purse, certain that if anyone saw her face, they would know everything she and Arthur had been doing under cover of the darkness. Arthur helped her to stand with a hand under her elbow. She couldn't look at him, even when he re-draped her jacket across her shoulders. He offered her his arm and she took it gratefully, still a bit shaky from the intensity of his effect on her. When was the last time they had cuddled like this? He had said he meant to court her but she had never anticipated something like that. It felt like ages that they had behaved this in love with each other.


	4. Let Me Take You Swimming

**Let Me Take You Swimming**

Molly was in emotional turmoil after the theatre. Her body was on fire and every nerve ending screamed for her to throw herself into Arthur's arms and let him kiss away the loneliness and the doubts she still had. She wanted nothing more than to give in to her emotions but her mind held her back. How could she so easily forget what Arthur had done to her? How could she forgive him this betrayal after just a few dates, mind-blowing as they had been? When had she ever let her attraction to her husband dictate her actions? She swallowed hard to battle down the tingling feeling.

Sighing deeply, Molly turned away from her vanity. Ever since Arthur's operation and the news of his oldest daughter, they had separate bedrooms. It was the first time after their wedding night that they slept apart and Molly was suffering from it. She wanted nothing more desperately than to sneak into Arthur's bedroom and snuggle up beside him. But no she couldn't! Now she had trouble sleeping. It took her forever to fall asleep and then her night was interrupted by nightmares and waking up craving the feel of Arthur's arms around her. She had, yet again, tried to substitute his presence with pillows but it didn't work.

"Molly, are you in here?" a voice behind her suddenly asked, causing Molly to jump a foot high.

Arms wrapped around her waist and steadied her. With a sensual voice he asked close to her ear, "Are you ok, honey? I'm so sorry for scaring you."

Molly had the feeling as if she could melt into a puddle of need just listening to his sultry voice. It had been so long since she had felt such need and yearning but again Arthur stepped away as soon as she had regained her balance and put some distance between them. Hiding her disappointment, she turned away to him and back to her work, cleaning her vanity.

"Did you want something from me, Arthur?" she asked coldly.

Arthur sighed. So she still hadn't forgiven him.

"I wanted to ask you if you want to go swimming with me," he offered hesitantly, preparing himself for a rejection.

Molly turned around quickly, not believing her ears. A huge smile spread across her face and an idea came to mind. She still looked darn good in a bathing suit.

"Oh, that would be lovely," she said enthusiastically.

"Really?" Arthur was momentarily speechless. "Alright then. Let's meet in fifteen minutes."

----

Fifteen minutes later, after changing into their bathing suits and putting the rest of their clothes back on, they emerged from Headquarters carrying their towels and other necessary equipment.

"Still no sign of anyone," Molly looked in the direction of where the path was, and Arthur laughed.

"We'll be lucky if we see the boys till tomorrow morning!"

"I'm sure the ladies will have something to say about that," Molly retorted with a slight smirk.

The Order had split up this morning. The staff members had gone up to Hogwarts and the other Order members had apparated to many possible hideouts for Harry, Ron and Hermione or back to work.

Arthur led the way through the forest, in the direction of the Black Lake in front of the castle, but veered off to the left just before they reached the path to the school. Molly was beginning to suspect that Arthur was very eager to be alone with her as he continued to push branches and bushes out of the way, allowing her to slip forward, before continuing the journey.

"Is this lake in the Forbidden Forest?" Molly asked, a little concerned, as Arthur turned back and took her hand in his. "Where on earth are you taking me?"

"We're going to be swimming in a small lake, but I thought you would like more privacy than having to swim near the school and our staff preparing for the next school year," he explained as he guided her through one more clump of bushes, and they found themselves standing on the rocky shore of the lake in question. "There is a small waterfall, see," Arthur explained as he led her towards a large flat rock, situated only a few metres away from the shore.

"Are you sure that it's safe to swim here?" she asked as she sat down on the warm rock, looking at the lake suspiciously.

"It's perfectly safe … I've swum here a few times, and nothing's happened to me," he joked as he sat down next to her, and she moved in closer to him.

"Something for which I am very grateful," she murmured as they looked out onto the relatively calm waters. "But it's so lovely and quiet here … I can't believe that it's so close to Headquarters … not to mention in the middle of a war," she said thoughtfully, before laughing at the look on Arthur's face.

"It's not particularly deep, not unless you go out half way, but I've never really ventured out that far …" He looked at her for a moment as she stared out at the water for a moment, before starting to take off her shoes.

"Did we bring those special waterproof shoes?" she asked after she had taken off her shoes, and he waved them in the air. Although he knew he should be undressing, he couldn't help but watch as she stood up and slipped off her jeans, followed by her shirt, and he almost gasped aloud - she was wearing as stunning blue bathing suit … and she hadn't changed a lot, with a still fabulous figure …

"Arthur," he heard her say, and he looked up to see her gazing at him with an amused look. "I knew I shouldn't have brought this … it's exactly the same as last time - you can't seem to keep your eyes off me!" But she was more than flattered by his obvious admiration.

"Ah," Arthur said quickly, standing up and ridding himself of his trousers and shirt. "But I'm allowed to … I'm your husband … but that suit is absolutely stunning on you - it brings out the colour of your eyes…"

"Thank you," she blushed with a smile as they slipped on the shoes - they had both agreed that the lake's bed was probably lined with sharp rocks. "Stop it, now you're making me blush!" she joked.

"I'm being honest," he said before holding out a hand to him. "Ready?"

"Ready," she said firmly.

She winced slightly as they walked slowly into the water, unused to the coolness of the river.

"It's cold!"

"It should warm up a little once we've been here for a while … and the sun comes back out," Arthur gazed up into the sky, where the sun had seemingly disappeared behind a bank of clouds. They continued walking out until they were almost shoulder deep in water, and Molly smiled boldly at her husband.

"How good are you at swimming?"

"Pretty good… I was a swimming champ remember … why?"

"Because … I think we should have a race …" she said teasingly, before suddenly disappearing with a big splash of water, leaving Arthur behind.

"You cheeky …" he began before he started swimming after her. He caught up to her easily, and soon passed her, grinning at her muttered threats. He looked back after a little while, and saw that she was still close on his heels, before stopping for a break.

"Do you concede defeat?" he teased after he swam back to her, and they trod water for a few moments, catching their breath.

"I give up … you are definitely better at swimming than I am!" Molly laughed, a little breathlessly.

"I wouldn't say that - you're in pretty good shape for…" he stopped short, suddenly realising what he was going to say, and she laughed at him.

"For … what, a mother of seven, or a middle-aged woman!" she teased, and he laughed. "Don't worry, Arthur, I'm not at all insulted … I'll just make to beating you back to the shore!" before she disappeared again, and Arthur marvelled at her energy.

----

"This is absolutely wonderful, Arthur. I'm having such a marvellous time," Molly said they sat on rocks in the shallow end of the river, and looking out at the water. She smiled happily over at him, before leaning over and kissing him. "Do you want to go for another race?"

"Another race … you do realise that it's been sprinkling rain since we've been sitting here?"

"Yes, but so what? Or are you scared?" she looked at him coyly, and he laughed.

"Alright, you're on!"

They stayed at the river for a while longer, daring each other to swimming races and splashing each other playfully, before Arthur noticed that the clouds were beginning to appear from all directions, blocking the sunlight.

"I think we might have to think about making a move back to camp," he said as they walked slowly out of the water.

"Why? Are you annoyed that I finally managed to beat you back to shore this time?" she teased as he handed her a towel, and she began drying herself off.

"No … but it looks like it might rain soon," he said, waving to the clouds overhead.

Molly looked at them for a moment, and shrugged carelessly. She had been so amazed that something as simple as swimming had given her so much pleasure, that she didn't care.

"Are you afraid of getting rained on?" she ribbed gently as she stepped into her jeans. "I thought you didn't mind the rain …"

"I don't mind it … not when I'm chasing you through it," he teased as both of them remembered the time she had run out into the rain, fed up with crying infants, burnt food and dirty diapers, and Arthur had had to follow her. "I just thought that you might not like it … but I just remembered …"

"Yes … well, that answers your query," she said with a broad smile. "But I imagine that it is getting rather late … What time is it, by the way?" she asked as he consulted his watch.

"Almost four … definitely time we were making a move," Arthur declared as he finished buttoning up his shirt, and slipped his feet into his shoes, not bothering to put on socks.

"I wonder if the others have come back yet," she said thoughtfully as she sat down on the rock to tie her shoes. "They would have been there at least four hours, wouldn't they?"

"About that long, if not a bit longer," Arthur said as she stood up and looked at him expectantly.

"Can we do this again tomorrow?" she asked as he took her hand, and they began walking away. She looked back, a little regretfully, at their private swimming area, and Arthur laughed.

"Of course we can, darling … you really are enjoying yourself, aren't you?"

"I am … I've enjoyed doing it all with you too …"

"You have taken everything in your stride …"

"Haven't I always been like that?" Molly looked at him quizzically, and Arthur laughed, realising that she usually did take everything in stride … "I would have loved to go camping as a chld but Fabian and Gideon always said that was 'just for boys'."

"So, knowing that, what would have been your favourite holiday, and where did you go?" he asked curiously as they walked through the forest. Molly looked pensive for a moment, before smiling shyly over at him.

"Our honeymoon," she said simply, and Arthur looked surprised.

"Our honeymoon!" he laughed. "That was four days away in a small hotel in Bretagne, and we had to come back early because you got sick … I'd hardly call that a decent holiday, let alone a honeymoon! Are you sure you don't mean our two weeks in Paris on our fifth wedding anniversary … that would be considered a honeymoon!"

"Be that as it may, the four days away were what I wanted … Paris was lovely, but the first honeymoon was better … completely isolated from the rest of the world and the best part was - it was just you and I …" she smiled dreamily over at him before leaning over and kissing him.

"Do you remember how we actually got there?"

"No, not really ... you kept blowing in my ear ... we nearly got lost ..."


	5. Religious Talk

_A./N.: I'm sorry for the delay. Life has been cruel to me lately and I had to get back on track before I could write again. Enjoy this chapter and leave a review. LG Andrea_

**Religious Talk**

All the way back to Headquarters, Arthur's eyes were fixed on his wife's beautiful body. She had looked so stunning in her bathing suit. Due to the war and her constant worries over her family's well-being, Molly had lost weight and for the first time since the war had started Arthur had noticed.

He wanted nothing more than to bash his head against the nearest tree. It was not like him to ignore his wife. The war had changed him too, though. Molly had become very fierce about keeping her family together, fussing over the children and watching Arthur's every step, worrying herself sick when he came home a few minutes later. Arthur had grown irritated at that, feeling as if she mistrusted him and was spying after him. Now he noticed that she had only been looking after him, fearing to lose the person closest to her heart ... at least he hoped he still was the person closest to her heart.

As Molly in front of him ducked under a low hanging branch of a willow, Arthur was suddenly struck by a thought ... a thought he had had this morning as well. Feeling slightly like a blasphemer, he stared down at his shoes and missed the branch slashing back at him. It whipped sharply through the air and connected with his cheek, cutting open the skin and drawing blood. Hissing in pain, Arthur instantly stopped and held his hand against his cheek. Before he could touch the cut, though, his hand was stopped. Looking up, he saw Molly eyeing him sympathetically.

"I'm so sorry, darling," she said quietly. "I didn't hold the branch out of your way and now you got hurt. I'm really sorry. Here, let me ..."

And with that she fumbled around in the pocket of her skirt and produced a handkerchief which she wet with a quick 'Aquamenti'. Gently she wiped at the bloody cheek and, wincing at Arthur's sharp intake of breath, cleaned his cut.

"It's not too deep. I can heal it easily for you," she said and then looked directly at him, winking. "It won't leave a dashing scar, though."

Arthur chuckled, recognizing the joke from their school years. "Oh, what a shame and here I thought I could impress you with my daring exterior."

Molly joined in his chuckle before huffing mockingly. "It takes much more to turn me on ..."

She stopped mid-sentence, surprised by her own words and feeling suddenly shy around her husband. Why had she said something that daring? And now? Had she forgiven him already? Was she ready to resume their marriage again?

Arthur cupped her cheek lovingly in his hand and stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. "It's alright, honey, we are married," he said softly, sensing that his wife was shocked by her forwardness. She had always left it up to him to make the first move in their marriage, feeling utterly feminine and delicate when he seduced her.

"The healing might sting a little," she warned him, her voice soft and quiet. She didn't want to admit it loud but Arthur's close proximity was having its effect on her.

"I can take it," he assured her and smiled at her with as much trust and love he could put into his smile.

Molly raised her wand cautiously and pointed it at his cheek. Muttering inaudibly under her breath, she cast the healing charm and Arthur felt a sharp sting in his cheek. He didn't wince or hiss though and let his wife finish her handiwork.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again.

"It was my fault," he took the blame, "I wasn't paying attention at the trail ... You were much too breath-taking ..." He was flirting openly with her now, hoping she would go along with it.

"Oh," she breathed softly.

"Yes," he decided to enlighten her. "I was thinking that you looked like Eve among all those leaves and how glorious you would look out of your clothes."

Molly blushed furiously and cast her eyes down. "Thank you," she breathed and shyly took his hand in hers, tracing his long fingers with hers. "We would make a rather old first couple, though," she joked wryly.

"Yes, but that would mean that we weren't kicked out of Eden," Arthur reminded her softly. Slowly he raised his other hand again to cup her cheek anew. Gently he drew her closer to him and leaned against her. Slowly he closed the gap between their mouths, giving her ample time to push away. He allowed only a few moments to pass before he spoke quietly, "Unless you can give me a very good reason not to, I am going to kiss you now."

The combination of the endorphins released from their wonderful afternoon at the lake and the warmth she felt radiating from him was just the right mixture to allow her to throw caution to the wind for just a moment and give in to the strong desire to kiss him. Her voice was husky as she lowered her head the few inches necessary for contact with his soft and waiting mouth, "I can't seem to think of one … oh Arthur …"

Molly revelled in the feel of the strong, yet soft lips that were now melding with hers. She could tell he was holding back a bit – she sensed he wanted her to initiate taking this kiss any further. She adjusted her body slightly so that she fit perfectly against him, slanted her mouth across his and deepened the kiss.

He sensed the change and felt her body pressing into his, their mouths fusing with an unspoken passion. A small moan escaped from the back of his throat at the sensations being elicited from her intimate touch. His hands left her hand and cheek and circled around her body; one to the small of her back, the other tangling in her soft wavy hair, pulling her even closer.

She felt their mouths move together … a primitive dance that brought their desire ever closer to the surface. She felt him pull her lower lip into his mouth with a gentle sucking motion … this time the moan escaped from deep within her soul. Her tongue snaked out to seek entrance into the warm recesses of his mouth. They continued to move bodies and mouths together, only breaking momentarily for a quick gasp of air. Finally, breathless, she pulled back and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Oh God, I have missed that," she panted.

Arthur allowed himself a tiny triumphant smile and held her tightly to him. After a few moments, he pulled back and fixed her with his eyes.

"I was wondering something, Mollywobbles," he said, using his nickname for her for the first time since Sarah.

"Yes?"

"Speaking of the Bible, you know."

"Got Scripture on the brain today, have you?"

One corner of his mouth curled up as he glanced at her.

"Yes, well. It's only I was thinking. When the Angel of the Lord comes along to Sarah and tells her she'll have a child the next year, she laughs and says that's a rare jest, as it's ceased to be with her after the manner of women."

"Most women in that situation likely wouldn't think it at all a funny idea," she assured him. "I often think God's got a very peculiar sense of humour, though."

He looked down at the leaf-covered trail, but Molly caught the faint twitch of his mouth.

"I thought that now and again myself, Mollywobbles," he said, rather dryly. "Be that as it may, she _did _have the child, yes?"

"The Bible says she did. _I'm _not going to call the Holy Book a liar." She could hear a certain amount of stirring in the direction of Headquarters, and her ears caught a word of inquiry, borne on the suddenly chilly breeze.

"Someone's looking for us," she said. "Again."

Arthur glanced over his shoulder and grimaced slightly, but made no immediate move to answer the call. He cleared his throat, and Molly saw a faint flush move up the side of his neck.

"Well, the point is," he said, carefully not looking at her, "that so far as I know, if your name's not Mary and the Holy Ghost isn't involved in the matter, there's only the one way of getting with child. Am I right?"

"So far as I know, yes." Molly put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile.

"Well, and if so ... well, that must mean that Sarah was still bedding Abraham at the time, no?"

He still wasn't looking at her, but his ears had gone pink, and she belatedly realized the point of his religious discussion. She reached out and prodded him gently in the side.

"You were thinking perhaps I wouldn't want you anymore?"

"You don't want me now," he pointed out logically, eyes on the crumbled remains of his leaf.

"I feel as though you have jeopardized our marriage with your little fling with Minerva, I'm still reeling with the fact that you have a daughter, I am still soaking wet and whoever's looking for us is about to burst through the shrubbery with a pack of bloodhounds at any moment," Molly said, with a certain amount of asperity. "Are you inviting me to participate in carnal revelry with you in that mound of leaves? Because if you are ..."

"No, no," he said hastily. "I didn't mean now. I only meant ... I was only wondering if ..." The tips of his ears had gone dull red. He stood rigidly, brushing at his trousers with exaggerated force.

"If," Molly said in measured tones, "you were to get me with child at this point in the proceedings, Arthur Weasley, I would have your balls _en brochette_." She tilted her head up, looking at him. "As for bedding with you, though ..."

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her. She smiled at him, letting what she thought show plainly on her face.

"Once you have a bed again," she said, "I promise I won't refuse it."

"Oh," he said. He drew a deep breath, looking suddenly quite happy. "Well, that's all right, then. It's only ... I wondered ... since you are occupying our bedroom ... and I sleep on the couch ... Well, I was wondering ..."

"Arthur," she said seriously now, "please let us handle this situation first before we do something we might regret later on."

Arthur looked down on his shoes and nodded, not entirely convinced that he could hold his feelings and desires in check. "I see." He sure as hell wouldn't regret sleeping with Molly but he wanted her to also enjoy their joining together again and do it out of love and not obligation because they were married. "I understand."


	6. Happy Birthday

**Happy Birthday **

Molly was usually a whirlwind of happiness and joy but lately she walked around Headquarters with a deep frown on her forehead. Neither of her children could really understand what was on her mind or why she was so reluctant to forgive their father. Sarah had been conceived and born before their marriage and Arthur had never known he had fathered a child until recently.

In fact all the children were more fascinated than jealous or aggressive towards their half-sister. Bill was amazed by the similarities between him and his siblings and Sarah. It seemed that she had parts of all of them and was still totally unique. She also had a fair share from Minerva McGonagall.

And to himself he thought that this was the problem. His mum was jealous of her former Professor and also comparing herself to McGonagall. Charlie had made him aware of all the glances Molly cast to the older woman and Ginny had found her staring at herself in the mirror with something akin to disgust on her face. Bill had then looked at his mother, really looked at her and seen her for who she was. The end result wasn't all that bad. She was a woman in her middle forties, hair still fiery red, figure slightly expanded from a good life and one too many pregnancies, eyes and face alive with joy and laughter most of the time and a heart full to the brim with love. She was really pretty in his eyes ... and it appeared that he shared his father's opinion in that matter.

Arthur had gone ahead with his plan to seduce his wife and had done so even in front of their children. He was more attentive to her than they had ever seen him. Usually it was their mother taking care of them and everything else and especially of her husband. Now it was slightly reversed. Arthur was trying to relive Molly of most of her chores and work around the house. The twins had expressed that they were a little worried that he might over-do it and suffer a relapse.

----

Molly scrutinized herself in the floor-length mirror. Her fiery red hair fell in soft luxurious waves over her shoulder-blades. And yet worrying over and looking after seven children had taken the gleam out of her hair and added a few grey streaks. Arthur had loved to tangle his hands in her fiery mass. Today she had decided to wear it bound together in a loose ponytail to keep it out of her face. Speaking of her face, she turned her gaze away from her shining hair and contemplated what she saw in her face.

Her forehead was high and with not too many lines, indicating too much frowning. Her eyebrows were delicately shaped and more blond than red as her hair. Then came her eyes. They were as brown as those of a doe and twinkled merrily in the candle and fire light. Bottomless at times and of such intensity that many had to look away after a few moments. Their colour was calming on people. But she was exhilarated that they had once fascinated Arthur.

Molly's face held, most of the time, a gentle, loving expression. Her mouth knew more how to laugh then to cry. The lines around her eyes and mouth showed that she lived a life filled with both laughter and worries.

Glancing down at the lower half of her face, she half expected to find her lips curled into a self-sarcastic smile over her sentimental contemplations. Naturally red and with a full lower lip they basically invited to kiss them. The curve in her upper lip was perfect and arched gracefully. Her teeth were white and even. Many people had seen her laugh hole-heartedly with flashing teeth and had remarked pleasantly to it.

Above them stood her pointed nose. She had sniffed at many an prank from her twins. She smiled and wriggled her nose a little like in this muggle movie Arthur had taken her to on one of their dates. (I mean Bewitched of course.)

Her cheeks were nearly as red as her lips today. It seemed that they were a bit shy und embarrassed by her reckless scrutiny of herself. Normally they held the same rosy and healthy complexion as the rest of her skin.

The chin was a little pointed. A heritage from her late mother.

Her neck was still slender. Arthur had often placed his hands on her shoulders and had massaged her neck during her pregnancies ... or when they were trying for one of their little ones.

Molly's posture was more slumped these days but still held signs of her proud upbringing. Her shoulders were held back slightly to thrust out her cleavage a little. Her arms were well-toned from all the manual labour she did day in and day out. Her legs were also well-toned from all her walks up and down the steep stairs in The Burrow.

She focused again on her hands and noticed her wedding ring still glinting on her finger. Her eyes misted over with tears and she had to avert her eyes quickly. From her hands her gaze wandered upwards again to her shoulders and from there downwards along her torso.

Molly's figure had suffered from six pregnancies. Arthur had never complained that her breasts had grown through the pregnancies but she could do without the extra pounds around her hips nowadays. True, the war had lost her some of her excess weight but she was still far from like the young Molly Prewett Arthur had once fallen in love with.

----

Arthur observed his wife from the open door of her room and had to bite back the chuckle, threatening to erupt from within him. He let his eyes roam over Molly's body as well but came to a very different conclusion than his wife. He loved the ample curves of her body. To every line in her face he could tell a story, sometimes funny, making her laugh again, and sometimes sad, remembering the hardships of their life together. He had held her in his arms when she had screamed in agony, giving birth to each of their children. He had stroked her when she had sobbed into his shoulder. He had kissed her when they had made love together. He had loved her every step of their long way together.

Now he watched her prod at herself as if she were disgusting to herself. But he had plans as to how he could show her how beautiful she still was in his eyes.

Her birthday was tomorrow and he had gotten her a present ... and himself a bed. She had told him she wouldn't refuse his bed when he had one. Now was the time to make her see how much he still loved her. He would ask her to sleep with him and make love to her gently, lovingly.

Before he could step into the room, though, Molly turned around and noticed him standing there. "Enjoying the view?" she asked rather aggressively.

Arthur was unperturbed by her tone and walked into the room slowly, taking in every inch of her body as he did and making sure she noticed him staring at her.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am enjoying the view of my gorgeous wife," he murmured in a low and sensual voice.

Suddenly, to her great shock, Molly became acutely aware that she was just wearing her underwear. Black lacy panties and a matching bra, barely covered by a black slip. Blushing furiously, she cast her eyes down and turned her head to the side.

Arthur moved closer, well into her personal space and put a finger under her chin, lifting her face up gently and forcing her to look at him. "Enjoying the view very much, Molly," he said more sincere but still seductive.

Molly blushed, if possible, a darker shade of red and mumbled under her breath, "You old flatterer."

Arthur chuckled deeply and Molly felt her body in voluntarily react to his. On its own volition her body leaned forward, closer to him. Arthur bend down and kissed her lips softly with his, not putting any pressure on her. "You are beautiful, my darling," he murmured into her mouth and kissed her cheek then moved on to the tip of her nose, making her chuckle.

"You mean it?" she asked tentatively, unable to believe in the sincerity of his words.

"Of course, I do, Molly. When have I ever lied to you?"

Molly ducked her head again, a single tear tracing a line down her cheek. Her heart was pounding in her ribcage from the effect he had on her just by standing there in front of her. "Never," she murmured almost inaudibly.

"So why should I do so now?"

"... I don't know," she mumbled again.

Gently he wrapped his arms around his wife and drew her close. "Molly, you must know how much I love you. Nothing changed."

Molly leaned her head against his chest and sighed deeply. "Please don't leave me tonight," she whispered softly, nuzzling up to him.

"I will never leave you, Mollywobbles," Arthur reassured her, not believing his luck that she had asked him to stay and not the other way roud.

----

Arthur opened his eyes, turning his head to look over at his wife. He had to be certain she was sound asleep before he got up. Otherwise, she'd wake up and ruin his plans. Looking over at her, he lifted his head to examine her breathing. She seemed to be asleep. Carefully extricating himself from beneath the blankets and circling the bed, he made his way over to the desk in the corner of the room. He pulled the main drawer open slowly, looking over his shoulder to be certain Molly was still asleep. Retrieving a long black box and a matching smaller one, he pushed the drawer closed and looked towards his wife once again.

Crossing the room to Molly's side of the bed, he opened the longer box and removed the silver bracelet from inside. Luckily, Molly's hand rested on her pillow, next to her face, her wrist lying limply against the curve of the pillow. Dangling the bracelet over her wrist ever so carefully, he laid it in place and loosely fastened the clasp partially, though he couldn't hook the double clasp completely without waking her up.

Glancing up at the clock, he noted that there were still a few minutes left. Smiling as he looked down at her, he quietly returned to his side of the bed and carefully slipped back under the covers.

Watching as the time passed slowly, he smiled when the arm finally moved and it was midnight. Shifting his body, he moved closer to his wife and slid his arm around her waist. He drew her to him and she moaned at the feel of his body against hers.

"Happy Birthday," he whispered, his lips brushing over her ear.

The husky tone of his voice awakened her body and she finally opened her eyes, leaning back into him. "What time is it?" she asked, wondering if it could be morning already.

"About one minute past midnight," he answered.

Molly moaned, feeling Arthur's arms around her body. Placing her hands over his, she didn't seem to notice the extra weight on her right wrist. "You woke me up at midnight to wish me a happy birthday?" she asked.

"You don't seem very impressed," he teased her.

"Oh, I am, I am," she replied, still trying to wake up. "You've just never done that before."

"I could make it a new tradition," Arthur suggested, kissing her neck as she relaxed against him.

Brushing her hair from her eyes, she caught the sight of something sparkling in the light as she lifted her hand. "What … Arthur," she whispered, finally noticing the bracelet that adorned her arm. Removing herself from his embrace and sitting up, she examined the piece of jewellery. "It's gorgeous," she spoke, holding up her arm to look at the bracelet elegantly reflecting the moonlight that crept in from the window.

Arthur kissed her shoulder as he sat next to her, watching her delighted expression. "Happy Birthday, Molly."

Turning her head to look at him, she leaned closer into him and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Thank you," she smiled. "It's beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it," he beamed, wondering how he could have at one point been so ignorant to her that he'd forgotten her birthday and not even gotten her a gift. Sitting here in the darkened room with only the moonlight and the two of them, it all seemed so simple. It didn't feel as complicated as it had earlier. This was his turn. His turn to be the one to stand behind her. She was right about all the things she'd said, about the years she'd spent doing everything he wanted her to do. How could he not have seen how simple it really was? And yet he'd done nothing but give her a hard time for not understanding his need to be with his eldest daughter or the sense of guilt he felt towards Minerva because she had had to raise Sarah alone.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" she asked, a bit uncomfortable with his behaviour.

"You're beautiful, do you know that?" he stated, reaching his hand out to brush his thumb over her cheek before resting his hand behind her neck.

"Oh, please," she sighed, looking away from him.

"I'm serious," he asserted, his hand moving to cup her face.

"You know, sometimes I actually believe the things you say," she laughed.

"Well, believe me when I say that you are the most stunning woman I've ever met." He learned forward slightly, his lips brushing over hers. "The most amazing woman," he added, moving to kiss the side of her mouth. "Someone who can still excite me more and more every day, even after so many years have passed." Molly's eyes slid shut as his kisses moved to her neck, her head falling back as he filled her senses.

Gently laying her on her back, she opened her eyes as Arthur's hand expertly slid down the buttons of her pyjama top. "You know, I have one more surprise," he informed her, reaching the final button and sliding his fingers across her exposed flesh.

"And what exactly would this surprise entail?" she choked out, her arms circling around him as he shifted his body to lie atop of her.

"You'll just have to wait and find out," he teased, eliciting a throaty moan as his hands brushed over her skin.


	7. One More Surprise

_A./N.: Happy Birthday Katie!!! I hope you enjoy this chapter. I would love to actually be able to be there but oh well, doing the best I can here. _

**One More Surprise**

_ "Well, believe me when I say that you are the most stunning woman I've ever met." He learned forward slightly, his lips brushing over hers. "The most amazing woman," he added, moving to kiss the side of her mouth. "Someone who can still excite me more and more every day, even after so many years have passed." Molly's eyes slid shut as his kisses moved to her neck, her head falling back as he filled her senses._

_Gently laying her on her back, she opened her eyes as Arthur's hand expertly slid down the buttons of her pyjama top. "You know, I have one more surprise," he informed her, reaching the final button and sliding his fingers across her exposed flesh._

_ "And what exactly would this surprise entail?" she choked out, her arms circling around him as he shifted his body to lie atop of her._

_ "You'll just have to wait and find out," he teased, eliciting a throaty moan as his hands brushed over her skin._

Sarah lay down on her bed with a deep sigh of satisfaction and relaxation. Today had been, yet again, a very adventurous day due to her children and their escapades. No sooner had her head hit the pillow, did her eyes fall close and dreams entered her mind.

Her father and his wife lay in their bed as well, close enough together as to look like one big person, sharing warmth. She saw the blankets twitch, settle, twitch again, and then still ness, waiting. She heard a whisper, too low to make out the words but the intent behind them clear enough.

Sarah was bone tired but also still too excited from the day's events to really sleep. She suddenly longed for her husband.

Perhaps it was the noises from her father's bedroom that made her long for Tristan – a sudden high-pitched intake of breath and the deep twin sighs that followed it; her familiarity providing a vivid physical memory of the action that had caused that sigh.

A suck of breath and a sound not quite a moan from her father – he did that when Molly put her mouth on his nipple; Sarah had see her do it once or twice in those intimate moments she now shared with her father. Molly had done so by the glow of embers from the room's fireplace, her eyes closed, a quick wet gleam of teeth, and her hair falling back from naked shoulders in a cloud of light and shadow.

----

Molly adjusted the temperature of the water and entered the shower. As always she loved to take a shower after making love. She stood under the shower, letting the force of the water massage her aching muscles. Almost immediately she began to feel revived enough to sing, as she often did in the shower.

She was so engaged in the shower and the song that she did not hear Arthur enter the shower behind her. When she felt hands on her shoulders, she froze for a second, her heart lurching, until she realized that her husband had joined her in the shower. As she felt his hands massaging her shoulders, her heart started racing. They had never showered together; suddenly having him there lit a quick fire in her.

"Keep singing," Arthur said in a low voice. She quivered at the sound of it, at the thought of him standing behind her, naked and wet, touching her. Her voice shook as she continued singing.

His fingers trailed across her shoulders and down her spine. He followed the flow of the water as it trickled further down her body, tracing the clefts and crevices in the way that he knew would make her writhe. When she felt his mouth on her neck, sliding and sucking against her skin, his hands continuing to dip into her, her breath caught and she had to stop singing. Her legs felt weak, and she reached out to grab the shower curtain, needing to hold on to something.

"Please don't stop singing, my love," he whispered into her ear, knowing it would stir her blood even more. As he kissed the side of her neck, she felt his hands come around to cup her breasts, his fingers at play, rubbing slowly back and forth across her already hardened nipples, the water creating a stimulating combination of smooth friction.

Molly felt her stomach tighten down low, her body almost vibrating at each of his touches. She resumed singing, her voice unsteady.

He stepped closer to her until she felt him hard against her. Her last note was more like a gasp; she could no longer continue singing. The throbbing was becoming too intense.

"Arthur …" she groaned.

He turned her around and leaned her against the wall tiles, moving to press his body to hers. She stopped him with a gentle push against his chest. Breathing hard, she looked at him and saw the want and desire in his eyes. She saw that he had been holding himself back as he teased her with his touches. Suddenly wanting to do the same to him, she leaned her chest into his, letting her breasts just barely touch him, rubbing them against him until he closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. His response made her feel even bolder. She reached down and grabbed him in her hand, stroking him up and down, her fingers rubbing and squeezing where she had quickly learned he felt the most intense pleasure, knowing she could make him lose control.

With a loud moan, Arthur opened his eyes. Pushing Molly back into the wall tiles, he kissed her hard, devouring her in his hunger. Molly wrapped her arms around him, twining one hand in his hair, pulling him closer. She needed him closer.

Arthur reached down to grab the back of Molly's knee and lifted her leg. She wrapped it around him, his hand still supporting her. Pulling up for air, Arthur looked at her. She gave him a small nod, and drew his lips back to hers, her hips thrusting into his, the slick wet friction irresistible.

Arthur entered her slowly, one agonizingly delicious inch at a time. Molly dug her fingers into his shoulder, the pleasure so intense it was almost unbearable. Slowly he moved, her body moving with him, finding a rhythm that gradually sped up, faster, harder. When felt herself tightening around him, she gripped his shoulder harder, her nails digging into his skin. It was enough to trigger him, and he emptied himself into her, collapsing against her, her own body shuddering against his.

Still trembling, she held onto him, wrapping her arms around him. He kissed her gently, again and again. They stayed in the shower, holding onto each other for a time, whispering to each other. _I love you… you are mine… my heart is yours forever…_ The water continued to shower them, soothing them.

Later that night as they lay in bed, Molly turned to Arthur with a serious look in her eyes.

"I love you, Arthur Weasley."

"I love you, too, Mollywobbles."

----

Molly had been aware for some time that Sarah was trying to get up the nerve to speak to her. She had thought the girl would, sooner or later; whatever her feelings towards Molly, she was married to Arthur and could probably answer all the girl's questions about her father. Molly did her best to help, smiling kindly and saying "Good morning", but the first move would have to be Sarah's.

She made it, finally, on a particularly hot August day a couple of days after Molly and Arthur had made up.

Molly was writing in her room, making notes on the housekeeping and expenses of the Order. She had just completed an exact list of all the bought supplies and their prices, when a shadow darkened the doorway of the room, and she looked up to see Sarah standing there, chin thrust out pugnaciously.

"I need to know something," she said firmly. "I don't like you ... yet, and I reckon you know that, but Mum and Dad say you're a wise woman, and I think you're maybe an honest woman, even if you stole Dad away from Mum, so you'll maybe tell me."

There were any number of possible responses to this remarkable statement, but Molly refrained from making any of them.

"Maybe I will," she said, putting down her quill. "What is it you need to know?"

Seeing that Molly wasn't angry, Sarah slid into the room and sat down on a chair, the only available spot since Molly occupied the other.

"Well, it has to do with ... with my father," she explained. "And how you two ended up married."

Molly raised one eyebrow. "Your mother didn't tell you about that? I thought the whole school had noticed back then."

Sarah snorted impatiently, her small dark brows knotted in fierce scorn. "Of course I know the basics! She told me as much as she knows or observed back then, but she was a teacher and you didn't like her, so I hardly think you confided in her about matters of the heart."

"I see." Molly regarded her with considerable interest. "You want to know more? Er ... about Arthur and me, I mean? Why?"

"Well," Sarah said slowly, twisting a handful of her dress, "I think I maybe would like to be part of this family. For real, I mean. If you all accept me ..." A hint of dreaminess flitted across her face, but then her expression hardened once more. "So you'll tell me?"

"Why?"

She pushed her lips, thinking, then pulled them in again. "Well, because of Dad. I never had one before, never knew who had fathered me. Mum always kept it a well-guarded secret. But ... I always wanted a daddy, to protect me, to hold me so I could feel sheltered. Now that I have one ... I don't know anything about him."

"Amen," Molly said, with some wryness.

"Eh?"

"Never mind." Molly waved a hand, dismissing it. "What is there you want to know about your father?" It felt strange to say it out loud, as if she was admitting it to herself and the world that this girl was really Arthur's child.

"I want to know if he always liked muggle stuff," she asked matter-of-factly.

Molly bit the inside of her lower lip, trying to hide her grin.

"Well, yes ... er ... he always had been fascinated with muggles and their ... technogolie. He always said that they are much more advanced than we are and have no disadvantages because of being magic-less."

Sarah eyed Molly warily. Without hostility for once, more as though she was estimating her in some fashion.

"Dad loves you," she said.

"I love him, too," Molly answered cautiously, not sure where the conversation was heading. "I've known him for quite a long time, ever since we went to school together."

Sarah relaxed suddenly, some of the tension going out of the slender shoulders.

"Oh. You'll know about it, then – his childhood? And you married him not for his status or anything?"

Suddenly Molly understood her wariness.

"His pure-blood family? The fortune of his uncle, that he inherits when Colin dies? Yes, I know about that. He told you, then?"

She nodded. "Aye, he did. That's when I told him that this didn't matter to me and that I loved him for being my father," she said. Her eyes were fixed on her skirt, and a faint tinge of pink showed in her cheeks. "And he said he loved me, too, for being his daughter. And he apologized for never having been there for me and that he didn't know about me. I told him I understood and didn't blame him. Arthur also apologized for never really loving my mother and only having had a crush on his teacher, like so many others." She raised her eyes, a look of incredulity in the light green depths. "I think he thought I'd _mind_," she said, wonderingly. "Well ..." she shrugged, tossing her hair out of the way, "... I soon took care of that." She looked at Molly straight on then, hands clasped in her lap. "It's just that I don't want to make you uncomfortable, in case you didn't know already. But since you do ... well, it's no use to conceal that we like each other and want to really get to know each other."

Molly stared at the younger woman for quite some time, too stunned to say anything.

"I think the best way to get to know your father ... and the rest of the family would be to talk to them and do things with them instead of asking me questions," Molly finally advised, carefully phrasing her sentences and hoping to God her children would welcome their half-sister.


	8. Reappearance of Old Acquaintances 1

**Reappearance of Old Acquaintances and New Feelings (1)**

After her talk with Sarah, Molly had been in a jumpy mood. She half-expected, half-dreaded her own children's reaction to Sarah and her wish to immerse herself in the Weasley Clan. Molly also knew that she had to have a serious talk from woman to woman with Professor McGonagall. For one to answer the question WHY Sarah wanted to be part of not only her father's life, which was totally understandable, but also her half-siblings' lives.

Molly walked through Headquarters aimlessly, turning corners haphazardly and not really taking notice of where she went. The house was so different from Grimmauld Place as one place could be. It was airy, spacious and furnished with taste and style. Every room held the essence of Minerva McGonagall ... and quite frankly this atmosphere was slowly but surely suffocating Molly.

She didn't want to live in a house owned by that woman, the woman who had seduced her husband. With a gasp, Molly stopped in her tracks and covered her mouth with her hand. Had she really just thought that? Was she really this vindictive? This spiteful?

Arthur was hers. He had made that very clear. All those years ago he had chosen her ... and not just because Professor McGonagall was unreachable. He loved her dearly. They had seven children together. A live and a life-time of shared memories.

She had to get out of this house! Now!

Minerva was well aware of the tense atmosphere in her house ... and she was also highly aware of the source for this tension. It was her.

Ever since she had told the Weasleys about Sarah, Molly was as cold to her as a dementor. 'Well, the ground doesn't freeze over,' Minerva thought wryly, 'but it's a close call.' Bill eyed his former teacher with a steely glint in his eyes whenever he came across her and the other children's reactions weren't much better. Yesterday Minerva had gone to the library and overheard the twins talking about her ... and not in a nice way. They hadn't even stopped when they had noticed her standing behind them. Ginny was a red-haired menace these days, glaring at her fiercely and all sorts of funny little accidents happened to Minerva, the usually so graceful and elegant woman.

The Weasley children were surely driving Minerva up the wall and very uncomfortable in her own house.

She had to get out of this house! Now!

Hogmead was a quiet little village, especially during the summer when all the students were at home or on vacation with their parents. Molly appreciated this and took deep breaths to stop her heart from racing and to clear her head of all the unfriendly, unchristian thoughts towards Minerva McGonagall and her daughter. Why was this woman intimidating her this much? She was a grown woman. She had children on her own. And was no longer a student, afraid to send to detention.

Minerva strolled leisurely through Hogsmead, not really paying attention to the road. She had walked these streets so many times that her feet knew their way without interference from her mind.

Her eyes were unseeing and her thoughts were on her daughter and the Weasleys once more.

Rosmerta saw Professor McGonagall come down the street at a leisurely pace, deeply in thought. That picture was not at all unusual and the barmaid smiled to herself. She knew that the Professor had always much too much on her mind.

Looking to the other side, Rosmerta noticed Molly Weasley, a girl she had gone to school with. Molly seemed to be deeply in thought as well ... and that was very unusual. Smiling to herself, Rosmerta wanted to turn around again when she noticed that both women were on collision path. Opening her mouth to shout out, Rosmerta was too late to avert a crisis.

Molly crashed headfirst into another person and went down with a shriek.

Minerva crashed headfirst into another person and could just barely stifle a shriek or curse from escaping her lips. Stumbling awkwardly, she tried to catch the other person but was instead pulled to the ground by whoever had crashed into her. A gasp did escape her at that and she tumbled to the ground, landing on the other person who let out a loud shriek followed by a gasp for air. Looking down, with an apology on her lips, her mouth dropped and she gaped at Molly Weasley.

Molly found herself sprawled on the floor, all fours stretched wide. To her mortification, she found Minerva McGonagall laying on her and between her legs.

... And she found it strangely ... exciting.

Suddenly she could understand Arthur.

Molly noticed the tiny flecks of brown in Minerva's emerald orbs. And the fullness of her lips so close up. Or the tiny scar through her left eyebrow. Or the slightly pointed nose. Or ...

What was she thinking?

Minerva scrambled to her feet after the first shock and bit her bottom lip. Holding out a hand, she waited for Molly to grab on and be dragged up as well. Hesitantly the other woman reacted.

"I'm so sorry, Molly. I didn't see you ... I was lost in thoughts ... I ... I'm sorry," she ended lamely.

Molly only nodded, still dazed it seemed.

"I'm sorry too," she mumbled, "... lost in thoughts ..."

Molly turned to get away. It was obvious that she felt uncomfortable in close proximity to Minerva.

"Molly, please wait. I think we should talk about Arthur and ... and well everything," Minerva said gently, taking hold of Molly's wrist.

Mechanically Molly nodded and followed Minerva into the Three Broomsticks.


	9. Reappearance of Old Acquaintances 2

**Reappearance of Old Acquaintances and New Feelings (2)**

Mechanically Molly nodded and followed Minerva into the Three Broomsticks. She moved woodenly, not feeling very much like herself. Minerva made her still nervous ... despite the years that had passed since her school years. After all Minerva was more a friend now than a teacher. But even when Minerva had called her and Arthur in because of the twins' pranks or Percy's achievements, she had felt nervous about entering the Professor's study and talking to her, feeling like a chastised child.

Minerva tried to walk calmly and seemingly in control of the situation, when in reality she was more nervous than ever before in her life. This was Arthur's wife and expected her to tell her that she had no interests in her husband ... but that would be a lie. Sighing as unobtrusively as possible, she steeled her resolve. She would do whatever was necessary to safe this marriage ... after all, breaking up Arthur and Molly would surely not result in having him in her ... Oh my God, what was she thinking? Her right hand clutched around her left wrist and she dug in her nails to release some of her frustration. She had to get her act together before turning around and facing Molly again.

With a nod she greeted Madam Rosmerta. "A gilly water, please, for me and ..." she drew out the last syllable, waiting for Molly to fill in the blank.

"Firewhiskey I guess ... after that shock," came the barely audible response.

For awhile, they both stared at each other. Both had on their minds the same feelings they shared for the man that had started this. Both had on their minds what had just happened, and both had no idea where to begin. So, after a few minutes, Minerva was the first to find words on her tongue.

"Molly, look, I –"

She stopped, Molly had looked up at her and her eyes showed just how betrayed she felt ... just how upset she really was. For the first time Minerva could see her true feelings, displayed perfectly in her brown orbs; the eyes which were always so full of love and hope, were filled with fear, torment, and grief. Minerva knew she was part of what had done this to her.

"Molly," she began again. "I am so sorry. I gave you the ... the um ..."

"The what, Minerva?" Molly asked icily.

"The wrong impression."

"How so?" Molly asked, her eyes cold and dark, her gaze wavering instead to her hands laid out on the table; to her wedding ring.

"I don't care for Arthur the way you do ... not anymore. Really, I never did."

Lies. Pure lies. At least, the worst had been handled ... or so she thought. Molly's sadness was replaced with anger.

"You slept with my husband and never had the same feelings for him? He pined after you for years and you never returned the favour? Why would you do that to him? Why would you do it in the first place!" She stood violently. "He ... was ... mine! He always has been MINE! Not yours, Minerva. NEVER YOURS," she screeched. "Not only did you taint that, BUT YOU DID IT WITHOUT FEELINGS FOR HIM!"

Now everyone in the Three Broomsticks had their eyes on Molly and Minerva, and Madam Rosmerta came just in time to calm the two women. Minerva was breathing heavily and never took her gaze away from Molly, but she unclenched her fists as Madam Rosmerta came to give them their drinks.

Molly sat down, wiping off her skirt and breathing heavily also, shooting daggers at Minerva every chance she got.

"Any food, ladies?"

"No, thank you," Molly replied, her gaze never wavering from Minerva's. "The drinks are fine."

Madam Rosmerta nodded and walked off, going to get their check for them, and soon Minerva packed up the courage to speak again.

"That's all in the past now, Molly. He doesn't care anymore, and nor do I –"

"– YOU NEVER DID!" she hissed back

"Let me finish," Minerva replied, her teeth clenched tightly. "We don't care for each other in that way. I never did, and he doesn't anymore. Even if his feelings were genuine, they were never more genuine then when he was with you. His feelings for you overcame those for me even before we were together. Our child is a chain to each other, NOT a bond, Molly." Tears were forming in her eyes, and her words were becoming cracked and filled with emotion she had pledged to herself she would keep at bay. "You're children are a bond Arthur and I will never have that. You're the lucky one, Molly. You're the one deserving of his love and the one that has ALWAYS HAD IT." She tried so hard to prevent her next words, but she couldn't stop them. "Maybe you still have trust issues if you can't believe that."

Molly stared at Minerva in shock and disbelief. But Minerva was not yet finished with her, "Maybe you don't love him anymore, not in the way you used to, if you doubt him like that."

Molly acted without thinking. She slapped Professor Minerva McGonagall, professor of Hogwarts, Leader of the Order of the Phoenix, and greatest witch alive.

Minerva sat stunned ... not even registering the spreading pain in her cheek or the shocked silence in the crowded pub and the shocked faces.

All she saw were Molly's burning eyes and all she heard was her anger-filled voice.

"I love my husband ... other than you, bitch. I always loved him and I always will. You won't change that!"

And with that Molly stormed out of the Three Broomsticks, leaving Minerva behind.

For a moment Minerva just sat there ... then slowly her hand rose and she gingerly touched her cheek, wincing at the sting in it. Her eyes filled with tears and her hands began to tremble. She slowly, almost pain-stakingly, stood and walked to the counter, not meeting anyone's gaze. There she silently paid for both beverages and left. She wouldn't come here for a long time.

Molly was fuming. How dare that ... hussy say all those things to her! How dare that ... slut tell her she didn't love her husband! Minerva's words were re-playing themselves over and over again and again in her mind. In fact it drowned out all other sounds, even her own furious heart beat, or the angry huffing coming from her lips.

She was rounding a corner briskly when her gaze fell onto the road she had taken and she noticed Minerva following her in some distance. She was not in the mood to endure that woman again. She would kill her if she had to speak to her right now. With a rapid whirl on her heels, Molly disappeared

Molly walked aimlessly around London, watching happy couples walk by and almost dissolving into tears every time she saw them touch or kiss. How she missed Arthur! How she wanted to be with him! But she had seen the looks he had given their former teacher and she couldn't forget the scene after she had revived him.

Finally she decided to sit down in the nearby park. She sat there without moving, watching people move past her and shivering slightly. After a while she closed her eyes and took deep breaths.

After a few more minutes, Molly heard soft footsteps on the gravel behind her. She paid it no heed. But instead of walking past, the footsteps stopped next to her. Surprised she raised her eyes to meet her companion's eyes, she half expected Arthur to stand next to her. Instead she met the eyes of Healer Colin MacDonald.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered.

Colin just sat down next to her without saying a word. Molly thought that perhaps he was searching for words or just as surprised to see her here. But none came. She rounded on him angrily to confront him. Her temper was still flaring from her talk with Minerva.

"What is this?" she asked aggressively. "Why do you just sit there?"

"I was worried for you as I saw you sitting here this forlorn … and it is getting dark. You didn't seem to notice."

Molly snorted disbelievingly. Yes, it was getting dark but she was a witch after all. But Colin gestured to some men leering after a pair of young women, hastening past them on their way to the bar at the other side of the park.

"It's dangerous, a lone woman walking about in the very late night. I came to see you home. That's all."

Her annoyance ebbed a bit. But then the reason why she was here came back to her and her anger flared up again.

"What are _you_ doing here?" asked Molly, emphasizing the word "you" and indicating that she didn't want to talk about what brought her here.

"I had a complicated operation today and I was afraid I had lost the patient. But he seemed dead asleep and on the mend when I did finally leave the hospital. Come along now, it's cold out."

It was. The air was freezing and Molly shivered in her thin blouse. But what let her agree with him was the fact that she, childish as it may be, wanted to get back at Arthur. So she nodded to Colin and stood up.

Colin took her hand and tugged her arm under his, making Molly feel like a lady being escorted by a handsome gentleman.

"I know a quiet and charming little bar not far from here. Care to join me in a drink?" he asked softly.

Molly nodded without hesitation. And Colin led the way.


	10. Reappearance of Old Acquaintances 3

**Reappearance of Old Acquaintances and New Feelings (3)**

Molly followed her old crush in a daze. She had no idea where they were going or why she was following him. The only thing she did know in fact was that it felt good to relinquish control to this able and caring man. Arthur had once been this attentive to her ... once upon a time ... but it had soon stopped. Molly heaved a sigh of regret and Colin stopped in his tracks, having picked up on the tiny sound.

"What is wrong, Molly? Since you walked into that park and crossed my way you looked thoughtful and ... I don't know if I'm out of line here but ... well, you looked sad," Colin asked softly, drawing Molly instinctively closer to him.

As a matter of fact, Colin had never been able to keep his eyes off Molly Weasley from the moment she had walked into his life. Her energy and drive had been phenomenal back then but here and now, so many years later, she only seemed to be a shadow of herself, a weary, old, and tired woman. Her soft brown eyes didn't spark anymore and her smiles seemed forced and almost painful. Colin remembered that he had already noticed these changes in her back at the hospital when her husband had had open-heart-surgery. Back then Colin had written it off to the worry for her husband and the strain of keeping her seven children in check.

Now it seemed to be a different kind of fatigue ... now it seemed to be fatal ... being tired of life ... wanting to escape.

He had to protect her ... even if it meant from herself or her husband. Colin wanted to do everything in his power to bring back that beautiful smile, that whole-hearted laughter, her joie de vivre.

oOoOoOo

Minerva returned to Headquarters in the hope of finding Molly here and maybe talk like rational adults now that they both had had time to calm down again and bring their emotions under control ... as much as one could keep emotions under control when it concerned adultery and love.

When she entered her house, she encountered Arthur instead of his spouse. Shyly she hid her face, blushing furiously. Awkwardly she stammered an excuse and tried to slip away. Arthur, though, moved forward, grasping her hand in his bigger one.

"Minerva, where were you? And have you seen Molly?" Arthur asked in a chocking voice. He was genuinely worried ... for his wife but also for the mother of his oldest daughter. "Sarah didn't know where you went. She was worried for you," he scolded her, sounding very much like a husband.

Minerva's eyes filled with tears. Yes, he sounded like a husband, but he wasn't _her_ husband. He was Molly's.

Arthur misinterpreted her tears. "I'm sorry I spoke so harshly," he mumbled, coming closer to Minerva and wrapping his arms around her. Comforting her with softly-spoken words, he drew her closer still and whispered in her ear, "You scared us all when you suddenly disappeared. You know you shouldn't do that ... not with death-eaters about."

Minerva heard the words but they didn't register in her mind. She was too distracted by his arm around her waist and his other hand tangling gently in her hair. She noticed the way her body fit with his. Her head was on the level of his shoulder, comfortably snuggling against his neck and cheek. She had the perfect height to fit him. Arthur always had to bend in half to accommodate Molly. Without her volition her arms snaked around his waist and she leaned heavily against him. It felt good to relinquish control to this able and caring man.

Minerva tipped her head back and slowly lifted herself onto tiptoes, raising herself slightly. She reached up and cupped his cheek in her hand then leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

Arthur leaned back against the wall, arms folded. He looked down at the crown of her raven-black, bowed head in exasperation. First she kissed him, inviting him to God alone knew what else with it, and then she was suddenly too shy to face him.

"Oh, like that, is it?" he demanded. "And whose idea was that? Yours, or our daughter's?"

"Does it matter?" She was composed, her hands perfectly still in front of her lap, her dark hair smooth in its bun.

He shook his head and bent forward. "No, it doesn't matter, because it's not going to happen. I appreciate your meaning, but ..."

His speech was interrupted by her kiss. Her lips _were_ as soft as they looked and he remembered. He grasped her firmly by both wrists and pushed her away from him.

"No!" he said. "It isn't proper, and I don't want to do it."

He was uncomfortably aware that his body did not agree at all with his assessments of propriety, and still more uncomfortable at the knowledge that his trousers, too small and worn thin, made the magnitude of the disagreement obvious to anyone who cared to look. The slight smile curving those full, sweet lips suggested that she was looking.

He turned her toward the door and gave her a light push, to which she responded by stepping aside and reaching behind her for the fastenings to her skirt.

"Don't do that!" he exclaimed.

"How d'ye want to stop me?" she asked, stepping out of the garment and folding it tidily over the single chair. Her slender fingers went to the laces of her bodice.

"If you won't leave, then I'll have to," he replied with decision. He whirled on his heel and headed for the door, when he heard her voice behind him.

"Arthur!" she said.

He stopped, but did not turn around.

"It wasn't Sarah's idea. It is mine. Turn around."

He turned, reluctantly. She stood barefoot in her undergarments, her hair loose over her shoulders. She was thin, but her breasts were larger than he had thought, and the nipples showed prominently through the fabric. He closed his eyes.

He felt a light touch on his arm, and willed himself to stand still.

"I know well enough what you're thinking," she said, "for I saw your wife, and I know how it was between the two of you. I never had that," she added, in a softer voice, "not with any of my few lovers. But I know the look of a true love, and it's not in my mind to make you feel you've betrayed it."

The touch, feather-light, moved to his cheek, and the thumb traced the groove that ran from nose to mouth.

"What I want," she said quietly, "is to give you something different. Something less, maybe, but something you can use, something to keep you whole. I know you will go back to Molly, but things between you will change – they already have. This is my good-bye present to you." He heard her draw breath, and the touch on his face lifted away.

"You've given me my daughter. Will you not let me give you this small thing in return?"

He felt tears sting his eyelids. The weightless touch moved across his face, wiping the moisture from his eyes, smoothing the roughness of his hair. He lifted his arms, and reached out. She stepped inside his embrace, as neatly and simply as she had all those years before.

"I ... hope I don't disappoint," he said, suddenly shy.

"So do I," she said, with a tiny smile. "But I'm sure we won't."

oOoOoOo

It was a restless night. Too tired to stay awake a moment longer, Minerva was too happy to fall soundly asleep. Perhaps she was afraid Arthur would vanish if she slept. Perhaps he felt the same. They lay close together, not awake, but too aware of each other to sleep deeply. She felt every small twitch of his muscles, every movement of his breathing, and knew he was likewise aware of her.

Half-dozing, they turned and moved together, always touching, in a sleepy, slow-motion ballet, learning in silence the language of their bodies. Somewhere in the deep, quiet hours of the night, he turned to her without a word, and she to him, and they made love to each other in a slow, unspeaking tenderness that left them lying still at last, in possession of each other's secrets.

Soft as a moth flying in the dark, her hand skimmed his chest, and found the thin deep runnel of the scar. Her fingers traced its invisible length and paused, with the barest of touches at its end.

His head turned on the pillow, his features lost in darkness, and his lips brushed hers, light as the touch of an insect's wing. He turned onto his back, shifting her next to him, his hand resting heavy on the curve of her thigh, keeping her close.

Sometime later, she felt him shift again, and turn the bedclothes back a little way. A cool draft played across her forearm; the tiny hairs prickled upright, and then flattened beneath the warmth of his touch. She opened her eyes to find him turned on his side, absorbed in the sight of her hand. It lay still on the quilt, a carved white thing, all the bones and tendons chalked in gray as the room began its imperceptible shift from night to day.

"Draw her for me," he whispered, head bent as he gently traced the shapes of her fingers, long and ghostly beneath the darkness of his own touch. "What has she of you, of me? Can you tell me? Are her hands like yours, Minerva, or mine? Draw her for me, let me see her." He laid his own hand down beside hers. The fingers were straight and flat-jointed, the nails clipped short, square and clean.

"Like mine," she said. Her voice was low and hoarse with waking, barely loud enough to register above the drumming of the rain outside. The house beneath was silent. She raised the fingers of her immobile hand an inch in illustration. "She has long, slim hands like mine – but bigger than mine, broad across the backs, and a deep curve at the outside, near the wrist – like that. Like yours; she has a pulse just there, where you do." She touched the spot where a vein crossed the curve of his radius, just where the wrist joins the hand. He was so still she could feel his heartbeat under her fingertip. "Her nails are like yours; square, not oval like mine. But she has the crooked little finger on her right hand that I have," she said, lifting it. "My mother had it, too." She laid the hand with the crooked finger on his, then lifted it to his face.

"She has this line," she said softly, tracing the bold sweep from temple to cheek. "Your eyes, exactly, and those lashes and brows. A McGonagall nose. Her mouth is more like mine, too, with a full bottom lip, but it's wide, like yours. A pointed chin, like mine, but stronger. She's a big girl – nearly six feet tall." She felt his start of astonishment, and nudged him gently, knee to knee. "She has long legs, like yours, but very feminine, kind of like mine."

"And has she that small blue vein just there?" His hand touched her face, thumb tender in the hollow of her temple. "And ears like tiny wings, Minerva?"

"She always complained about her ears – said they stuck out," she said, feeling the tears sting her eyes as Sarah came suddenly to life between them.

"They're pierced. You don't mind, do you?" she said, talking fast to keep the tears at bay. "She wanted to do it, and I let her, when she was sixteen. Mine were; it didn't seem right to say she couldn't when I did, and her friends all did, and I didn't – didn't want ..."

"You were right," he said, interrupting the flow of half-hysterical words. "You did fine," he repeated, softly but firmly, holding her close. "You were a wonderful mother, I know it."

She was crying, quite soundlessly, shaking against him. He held her gently, stroking her back and murmuring. "You did well," he kept saying. "You did right." And after a little while, she stopped crying. He sighed deeply, and in an instant was asleep. In another, Minerva fell asleep herself, her last sight his wide, sweet mouth, relaxed in sleep, half-smiling.


	11. Old Fires Smothered

A./N.: Katie, Sarah, be kind. You two know how much this chaoter cost me. Read & Review

**Old fires ... smothered**

Molly stumbled slightly over the curb near the restaurant.

"Molly!" Colin caught her by the shoulders, to prevent her falling backward. "Are you quite alright, my dear?"

"Yes, certainly." Her cheeks were flaming legitimately at this point, and she stepped back, shaking herself back into order. Why did she had to bump into Colin tonight? Was he maybe following her? "I do apologize."

"Nonsense, nonsense," he said heartily. "It was my fault entirely. Very clumsy of me. May I get you something to restore your spirits, my dear? A glass of cider? Wine? Or – no, Firewhiskey. Yes, allow me to bring you a bit of Firewhiskey to recover from the shock!"

"No, nothing, thank you!" She couldn't help laughing at his absurdities, and he grinned back, obviously thinking himself very witty.

"Well, if you are quite restored, then, dear, you must come with me. I insist."

Colin had Molly's hand tucked into the crook of his arm, and was towing her determinedly off in the direction of the pub, despite her protests.

"It will take no more than a moment," he assured her. "I have been looking forward all evening to showing you my surprise. You will be utterly entranced, I give you my word!"

Molly subsided feebly; it seemed less trouble to go and look at the restaurant than to argue with him. They skirted the entrance, though, and moved to a side-entrance. There they were welcomed warmly by a young server and shown upstairs. By contrast with the bright light from the street lamps outside, it was very dark in the pub; so dark that Molly stumbled over an uneven bit of carpet, and Colin seized her arms as she lurched forward with a startled cry.

"Are you all right, Molly?" he asked, setting her upright again.

"Yes," she said, a little breathless. In fact she had both stubbed her toe viciously and turned her ankle; her new high-heeled shoes were lovely, but she wasn't used to them yet. "Just let me stand a moment – 'til my eyes adjust."

He did, but he didn't let go of her arm. Instead, he pulled her hand through the crook of his elbow and set it solidly, to give her more support.

"Lean on me," he said, simply.

She did, and they stood quietly for a moment, Molly with her injured foot drawn up like a heron's, waiting for her toes to stop throbbing. For once, Colin seemed bereft of quips and sallies; perhaps because of the peaceful atmosphere.

So close to Colin, Molly was aware of his perfume. He smelled quite nice.

"It's rather peaceful," she said softly. "I can almost hear my heartbeat."

Colin laughed, but quietly.

"That's mine," he said. He touched a hand briefly to his chest.

Molly's eyes adapted quickly to the dark, but even so, the place was very dim. The lithe shadow-shape of a cat glided past, making Molly wobble and set down her injured foot. It wouldn't yet bear weight, but she could at least put it to the floor.

"Can you stand for a moment alone?" Colin asked.

Without waiting for her reply, he detached himself and went to the nearest wall and turned the light higher. Taking her arm again with his right hand, he led her further down the corridor, toward a disclosed room.

There was a table set for two with candlesticks, cloth napkins, and fine porcelain. A buffet was set out with finger food and tapas. Wine and champagne stood in buckets with ice water. Molly wondered slightly when he had arranged for that. But then she guessed he had planned that all along since he saw her in the park.

"Oh," she said softly, "how beautiful."

"I thought it was a poor attempt to please you."

Molly didn't move for a second, stunned by sheer disbelief at the expression that showed quite clearly on Colin's face.

"What?" she said blankly. Surely she was wrong, she thought. She tried to snatch her hand away, but she had hesitated one second too long, and his fingers tightened on hers. Surely he wasn't really meaning to ...

He was.

"Charming," he said softly, and moved closer. "Good-natured. Delightful. And ... beautiful." He kissed her.

Molly was so shocked that she didn't move for a moment. His mouth was soft, the kiss brief and chaste. That hardly mattered, though; it was the fact that he had done it.

"Mr. MacDonald!" she said. She took a hasty step back, but was brought up short by the wall.

"Mrs. Weasley," he said softly, and took the same step forward. "My dear."

"I am _not_ your ..."Molly began, and he kissed her again. Without the least hint of chasteness. Still shocked, but no longer stunned, she shoved him, hard. He wobbled, and lost his grip on her hand, but recovered instantly, seizing her by the arm and slipping his other hand behind her.

"Flirt," he whispered, and lowered his face toward mine. She kicked him. Unfortunately, she kicked him with her injured foot, which deprived the blow of much force, and he ignored it.

Molly began to struggle in good earnest, as the sense of stunned disbelief faded into the awareness that the older man had one hand firmly on her backside. At the same time, she was aware that there were a good many people in the vicinity; the last thing she wanted was to attract attention.

"Stop that!" she hissed. "Stop it at once!"

"You madden me," he breathed, pressing her to his bosom and attempting to stick his tongue in her ear.

Molly certainly thought he was mad, but she declined absolutely to accept any responsibility for the condition. She jerked back as far as she could – not far, with the wall at her back – and fought to get one hand between them. Shock quite gone by now, she was thinking with surprising clarity. She couldn't knee him in the balls; he had one leg thrust between her own, trapping a wodge of skirt in her way. If she could get her hand round his throat and get a sound hold of his carotids, though, he'd drop like a rock.

Molly did get hold of his throat, but the collar of his shirt was in the way; her fingers scrabbled at it, and he jerked to the side, grabbing at her hand.

"Please," he said. "I want ..."

"I don't give a damn _what_ you want!" she said. "Let's go of me this instant, you – you –" She groped wildly for some suitable insult. "You – _doter_!"

Rather to her surprise, he stopped. His face turned pale and his mouth was set, his expression was ... rather wounded.

"Is that really what you think of me?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes, it bloody is!" she said. "What else am I to think? Have you lost your mind, behaving in this – this despicable fashion? What is the matter with you?"

"Despicable?" He seemed quite taken aback to hear his advances described in this fashion. "But I – that is, you – I thought you were ... I mean, might be not averse ..."

"You can't," she said positively. "You can't possibly have thought anything of the sort. I've never given you the _slightest_ reason to think such a thing!" Nor had she – intentionally. The uneasy thought came to her, though, that perhaps her perceptions of her own behaviour were not quite the same as Colin's.

"Oh, haven't you?" His face was changing, clouding with anger. "I beg to differ with you, Molly!"

She had told him off at the hospital; it had never for a moment occurred to her that he didn't believe it and write it off as stress.

"Flirt," he said again, though in quite a different tone than the first time. "No reason? You have given me every reason, since the first occasion of our meeting."

"What?" Her voice went up a tone, in incredulity. "I've never done anything but engage you in civil conversation. If that constitutes flirtation in _your_ book, old man, then ..."

"Don't call me that!"

Oh, so he _had_ noticed that there was a difference of age. He simply hadn't appreciated the magnitude, she thought. It came to her, with a certain feeling of apprehension, that at Colin's level of society, most flirtation was indeed conducted under the guise of banter. What in the name of God had she said to him?

"_Thine eyes are like the fishpools in Heshbon_," he said, low-voiced and bitter. "Do you not recall the evening when I said that to you? The Song of Solomon is merely 'civil conversation' to you, is it?"

"Good grief." Molly was, despite herself, beginning to feel slightly guilty, they _had_ had a brief exchange along those lines, at a party for the young trainees, decades ago. And he remembered it? The Song of Solomon was reasonably heady stuff; perhaps the simple reference ... Then she shook herself mentally, and drew herself up straight.

"Nonsense," she declared. "You were teasing me, and I simply answered you in kind. Now, I really must ..."

"You came in here with me today. Alone." He took another step toward her, eyes determined. He was talking himself back into it, the fatheaded popinjay!

"Mr. MacDonald," she said firmly, sliding sideways. "I am terribly sorry, if you have somehow misunderstood the situation, but I am very happily married, and I have no romantic interest in you whatsoever. And, now, if you will excuse me ..." Molly ducked past him, and hurried out of the restaurant. He made no effort to follow her.

oOoOoOo

As Molly entered Headquarters, she took inventory. Only one lock of hair had come down in the recent contretemps; she pinned it carefully back, and dusted a few bits of dust from her skirts. Fortunately, he hadn't torn her clothes, a re-tucked handkerchief and she was quite decent again.

"Are you all right, Mollywobbles?"

Molly leaped like a gaffed salmon, and so did her heart. She whirled, adrenaline jolting through her chest like the Cruciatus Curse, to find Arthur standing beside her, frowning slightly as he surveyed her.

"What have you been doing, Mollywobbles?"

Her heart was still stuck in her throat, choking her, but she forced out what she hoped were a few nonchalant words.

"Nothing. I mean, taking a walk ..."

"Mollywobbles," he interrupted.

"What?"

"What in the name of God have you been doing?" he burst out.

Molly stared at him in bewilderment. His face had been growing redder as they talked. It dawned on her, catching a dangerous blue glint in his eye, that there was something wrong. She tilted her head to one side, giving him a wary look.

"What do you mean, what have I been doing?"

His lips pressed tight together, and he didn't answer. Instead, he extended a forefinger and touched it, very delicately, beside her mouth. He turned his hand over then , and presented her with the colour of her lipstick clinging to the tip of his finger – Colin had smeared it with his kisses.

"Oh." She felt a distinct buzzing in her ears. "That. Er ..." Her head felt light, and small spots danced before her eyes.

"Yes, that," he snapped. "Christ, woman! You were out canoodling with that fop!"

Molly felt the blood rising behind her eyes, and curled her fists, in order to control the impulse to slap him.

"I was _not_ 'canoodling' in the slightest degree, and you know it! The beastly twerp made a pass at me, that's all."

"A pass? Made love to you, you mean? Yes, I can see that!"

"He did not!"

"Oh, really? So your lipstick got smeared all by its own, then?" He waggled the finger with the lipstick under her nose, and she slapped it away.

"I _mean_," she said, through clenched teeth, "that he kissed me. Probably for a joke. I'm young enough to be his daughter, for God's sake!"

"Kissed you – why in hell did you encourage him, Molly?" Arthur asked brutally.

Molly's mouth dropped open in outrage – insulted at the accusation of having encouraged Colin MacDonald.

"Encourage him? Why, you bloody idiot! You know perfectly well I didn't encourage him!"

"I saw him flirt with you at the hospital! And following you around like a dog after a bitch in heat!" He must have seen her expression alter dangerously at that, for he coughed briefly and hurried on. "More than one person has mentioned it to me. Do you think I like being made a public laughingstock, Molly?"

"You – you –" Fury chocked her. She wanted to hit him, curse him. "Bitch in heat? How dare you say such a thing to me, you bloody bastard?"

He had the decency to look slightly abashed at that, though he was still glowering. Suddenly he wrapped his arms around her, pressed her tightly against himself, and kissed her. Unable to get loose, Molly quit fighting, and went stiff and furious instead.

He finally moved his lips off hers, still holding her tightly against him, and very slowly bent his head, his cheek lying cool and firm next to hers. His body was firm, too, and not at all cool. The heat of him was leaching through her clothes to reach her own skin. Whether it was anger, arousal, or both, he was fully stoked and blazing like a furnace.

"Well, I shouldn't have said it quite that way. I'm sorry," he said quietly, his breath hot and tickling in her ear. "I didn't mean to insult you. Truly. Do you want me to kill him, and then myself?"

Molly relaxed, very slightly. Her Hips were pressed solidly against him, and the effect was reassuring.

"Perhaps not quite yet," she said. She felt light-headed from the rush of adrenaline, and took a deep breath to steady herself. "Let's discuss the rest upstairs."

oOoOoOo

Molly had slowly climbed the stairs to the bedroom she shared with Arthur. Now she stood in front of the door and had just reached out her hand to open it, when the door opened on its own accord.

Out came Minerva McGonagall. Molly would probably haven't thought much about it, just a friend looking in, had Minerva not clutched her cloak and dress to her body. Her long, black hair hung loosely around her shoulders, too. And the only clothes she had donned was her underwear.

Molly gasped and felt her eyes sting with unshed tears.

How could he? How dare he accuse her of 'canoodling' with Colin when he had done exactly that with Minerva?

Without a word, Molly took out her wand and pointed it at the professor. Her fury ran cold in her blood, leaving her unfeeling and distant. As if floating above the scene, she saw herself rise the wand and direct it at Minerva. A murderous glint in her eyes was all that was need; no incantation was said. A jet of light hit Minerva squarely in the chest, sending the older woman flying backwards into the room.


	12. Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman Scorned

_A./N.: Special thanks to my beta. Sorry I made you cry. _It's pretty much me in this chapter.

**Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned**

Minerva felt as if a horse had kicked her in the chest. Gasping for breath, she fought the dizziness and overwhelming urge to faint, residues of the curse. Her rip-cage felt sore and she couldn't draw enough breath. Raggedly she took shallow breaths, fighting down a beginning panic. Black spots danced across her vision and the corners dimmed and blurred.

"Don't feel like stealing my husband now, do you, bitch?" Molly snapped remorselessly, glaring down at 'the other woman'.

"I-I," Minerva stammered out, but couldn't breathe enough to continue. Another ragged breath, another attempt to speak, "I ... said ... s-said g-goodbye ..." It came out barely above a whisper.

Molly stared down at her, glowering fiercely. "I don't believe you! You wear only your underrobe and nothing more and COME OUT OF MY BEDROOM!" Molly's voice thundered through the room, feeling to Minerva like a curse in itself. "YOU SLEPT WITH ARTHUR! MY ARTHUR! Again and now you are AGAIN trying to talk yourself out of trouble. I WON'T have it. You will have to face the consequences and my wrath!"

Minerva had always flattered herself thinking she was strong, but now she was deadly afraid. Her fear only grew impossibly further when Molly raised her wand once more. Before Molly could send another jinx hurdling towards Minerva, a hand seized her wrist and held her back. Another hand knocked her wand from her grasp.

"Molly, stop that. That isn't you." Arthur's voice implored her.

"It's true!" She whirled towards Arthur, fists clenched against the cloak she still wore. "It's true! You slept with Professor McGonagall! How could you do such a thing to me, Arthur Weasley?"

"Be still, Molly!" he snapped. "I've done nothing to you!"

Minerva sat up against the wall, clutching her chest in an anguished way. Molly's eyes turned on her again, with the same expression of hatred she had seen in them before.

"He's mine!" she hissed. She stamped her foot. "Get back to the hell you came from, and leave him to me! Go, I say!"

As Minerva made no move to obey, Molly glanced wildly about in search of a weapon. Catching sight of the blue-banded ewer, she seized it and drew back her arm to fling it at Minerva. Arthur plucked it neatly from her hand, set it back on the nightstand, and grasped her by the upper arm, hard enough to make her squeal.

He turned her and shoved her roughly toward the door. "Get downstairs," he ordered. "I'll speak with you momentarily, Molly."

"You'll speak with me? Speak with me, is it!" she cried. Face contorted, she swung her free hand at him, raking his face from eye to chin with her nails.

He grunted, grabbed her other wrist, and dragging her to the door pushed her out into the passage and slammed the door in her face. Hesitantly he turned around.

"Minerva ..."

But the woman on the floor only shook her head tiredly. "No, Arthur, she is right. I should back out as long as I have the chance to. Talk to her and try to save your marriage. This was," she swept her arm over the room, the rumbled bed and her clothes, strewn over the floor, "to say farewell."

With immense effort and groaning in pain, Minerva dragged herself to her feet. Stumbling forward and turning wobbly on the spot, she disappeared into thin air.

oOoOoOo

Molly tried to cover her red puffy eyes and returned to their room, not sparing a second to turn and see if he were behind her. Somehow she managed to hold her nerve, she even managed to stumble to her room avoiding other members of the Order. It wasn't until she passed through the door to her room that she sank to the floor. She dragged herself to the couch and yanked the scarf from her neck. It wasn't the most dignified of poses, slumped on the couch with tears streaming down her face, still wearing her cloak. Finally she allowed the strangled breath to escape, furiously wiping at her face, angry at herself for crying, angry at herself for reacting so weakly.

She wasn't aware of him standing behind her, having silently entered the room.

"Molly?" he asked gently.

Startled she jumped up, eyes blazing. "How dare you face me? I want you to leave."

"This is my home, our home."

"Not anymore, in fact, you can move out now. And don't you dare come to The Burrow."

She marched to the closet, opening the drawers designated for Arthur's clothes. She was yelling as she pulled out shirts and threw them at him.

"Take your things and find somewhere else to sleep, I'm sure she'll accommodate you."

He caught a few garments as they flew at his face. "This is ridiculous, Molly, you're being irrational."

"Irrational?"

"Yes, irrational!" It was the first time she noticed how angry Arthur actually was. "You've jumped to this conclusion, you won't listen to me, suddenly I'm some untrustworthy, cold, heartless bastard of a man."

"Yes, you are. Not suddenly, this has been going on far too long, I won't take it anymore. I won't allow you to treat me this way."

"How many times do I have to say this; I love you, for God's sake."

"Yet you feel free to screw somebody else."

"I'm not _screwing_ anyone."

"Certainly not me, least of all me, you haven't touched me in months, you won't come near me."

"There are reasons …"

"To hell with your reasons."

He dropped the clothes to the floor and pursued her as she ran through to their bedroom.

"Will you stop and listen to me."

She was pulling the drawers of the bedside cabinet open, "Here take this, too."

She swung round throwing a pyjama top at him, her favourite of his to wear, the one she'd stolen from him during their first week of separation.

"Oh, Molly, will you bloody calm down? Stop this!"

"This is me being irrational …" she claimed as she stormed past him. "This is me showing some emotion! Isn't that what you want? For me to feel something, anything … whether it be love or hate ... to make a decision whether I still love you or not!" she shouted at him and he remained in the bedroom a second longer, taking in the sight of their possessions strewn across the room.

Finally he followed her to the sitting area again. She stood by the fire.

"Well, congratulations, you can now be sure! I hate you and I want a divorce!" She lifted their wedding photograph from the mantelpiece and held it up.

"Molly, no … not that one. There's only one."

"What does it matter now?"

"You know it matters. You don't mean these things. You're angry, upset."

"Damn right, I'm angry." She sniffled, fighting to hold on to her anger. "You've broken my heart, Arthur."

"Oh, my love, stop please, I wouldn't, I couldn't …"

She was crying unabashedly, deep heavy sobs that tore from her throat leaving her breathless and drained. He moved in front of her, took hold of her wrists and wrestled the picture from her hands, safely replacing it above the fire.

"Come to me, let me hold you," he said trying to wrap his arms around her.

"No, no … I don't want you, I can't … My husband is having an affair, what do I do about that, hmm? What do I do when I have no best friend to talk to about it? Who do I turn to, because you're my best friend? I'm so stupid, I'm so damned stupid because you're the closest friend I ever had and you're breaking my heart and I have nowhere to turn."

"You turn to me, I would never handle your heart so cruelly. I treasure it above all things."

He gripped her shoulders bringing her body into close contact with his, but she resisted, attempting to pull away. His hands slid down to her elbows, encouraging her head to his chest, but still she fought back. She was no longer shouting, her voice wouldn't function above the sobs. It struck Arthur that she was almost hysterical; he'd only once seen her react like this and he never thought he'd witness it again. Her hands formed fists and she attacked his chest fighting him off.

"Sshh, please, Molly, calm down … come to me." He caught her wrists preventing her from hurting either him or herself. "Let me help."

"I can't, I hate you – I hate you, I hate you …"

He pulled her to him, her head falling against his chest, her body convulsing against his, fighting against her need to cling to him for comfort, yet needing to force him from her.

In time she relaxed, and seemed to shrink against him and dissolve. Her tears fell for well over an hour, until finally with an aching, heavy head she slipped into unconsciousness.


	13. Contemplations: Sarah

Contemplations: Sarah

Sarah walked slowly through the back garden of the Mansion. She felt a little restless ever since she had noticed her mother's saddened expression these days. Somehow the young woman got the feeling that her mother had lied to her. Minerva had said she was over Arthur Weasley, had never really loved the younger man. At first Sarah had hated her mother for that, for sleeping with a man who meant apparently nothing to her, for getting involved with a student for the thrill of feeling a young body between her legs. Now it appeared that Minerva had had strong feelings for her student, still had, if Sarah was any judge of the situation at all. Sarah couldn't decide what was worse.

What she did know was that all those unresolved and hidden feelings were slowly destroying everything.

And not just Arthur's and Molly's marriage.

The whole affair was dividing the Order as well. Its members were choosing sides, supporting one woman and shunning the other. But they were at war and they needed a united front … otherwise they would be overwhelmed by the enemy.


	14. Contemplations: Bill

**Contemplations: Bill**

Bill stood at the counter of the big spacious kitchen, a cup full of coffee in his hands and a heart full of sorrow. His mind drifted aimlessly from his father to his mother and to the woman who single-handedly wrecked everything.

But in the end his thoughts returned to his mother. He had never understood why his mother, on the rare occasions she had had a fight with her husband, took refuge in the kitchen. Now it became clearer. It was strangely comforting to be surrounded but the earthly scents of spices, fruits and vegetables. If the aggressions seemed too overwhelming there were enough pots and pans to scour ferociously. After that one could relax against the counter with a freshly poured cup of coffee. Suddenly it became quite clear to Bill why the kitchen seemed so very comforting. The smells didn't just give the illusion of being in a far away, exotic country, no, they gave the illusion that he was wrapped up in his mother's arms. She had always smelled of ginger from baking cookies, chocolate from making cocoa, all sorts of spices from cooking.

Bill inhaled deeply again and savoured the smell of his freshly brewed coffee. This was an addiction he had inherited from his father. He had often seen his father absent-mindedly conjuring a cuppa, or his mother lovingly leaning over her husband, refilling his cup.

All that was now flushed down the toilet. Sighing, he wished for the umpteenth time that Minerva McGonagall had never chosen the teaching profession, had therefore never met his father, never had that stupid affair with him, and certainly never had Sarah.

Speaking of Sarah: The slightly older woman had tentatively tried to approach him and his siblings. Bill could, in a way, understand her. She was a single child and was now confronted with a happy, and rather big family. Surely she must feel envious ... and maybe even overwhelmed and intimidated.

Bill could almost feel sorry for Sarah ... if there weren't that mother of hers. Once upon a time (it felt like centuries ago) he had admired the tough, stern but also incredibly powerful McG. Now he felt only ... not exactly hatred, but damn close to it. He was hurt by her betrayal. Bill scoffed loudly, but had to admit it really did feel like a betrayal. He had trusted her with his secrets, with being too pressured as the oldest of seven, and as the war began, with keeping his family safe. He had trusted her as a member of the Order and later as a leader of it, now that Dumbledore was dead. How could he trust her with his life and those of his family now? Everything she had stood for had collapsed like a card house. She was now a paedophile and 'the other woman'. How could the Order follow someone who had showed as low moral standards as any deatheater?

His gut turned and heaved at the thought of that woman with his father. And it wasn't because of the thought of his father doing 'It'. Bill couldn't count all the awkward situations he had created by his untimely interruption. It was the thought of Minerva doing 'It' to his father.

Bill stopped midway, his cup half raised to his mouth for another sip. Now where did that come from? He had shid away from imagining their encounter, but somehow the image of rape had manifested itself in his mind. How so? His dad had said he had been a willing participant. A thought struck him ... and made him violently ill.

He had only heard and believed what he wanted to. Believing that his father had cheated on his childhood love was too much for Bill. He had found it easier to shift the entire blame to his former teacher. It was the easy way out, but Bill couldn't help but wonder just how much blame lay with his father.

All he did know was that he would do anything to make his mother smile again.


	15. Contemplations: Twins

Contemplations: Twins

"What you think, Fred?" asked George.

"Dunno," his twin answered.

"Me neither," admitted George. He hung his head a little, but looked rather thoughtful than upset. He seemed to really contemplate the idea.

Fred thought as well. He was the louder twin, the one who usually set the tone, but this one time he had no idea how to handle the situation.

"Mmm, maybe it's not such a horrible thing," he began.

"No, I don't think so, too," George agreed. "But Mum's really upset."

"Who wouldn't be, but it was before her ... wasn't it?"

George shook his head. "Before marriage, yep, but not before their relationship. Would you ever ...?"

"... sleep with McG?" Fred finished the question. "No."

"And ..."

"... betray my wife (should one ever be foolish enough to marry me)?" he asked the next question as well. "No." Both answers had been stated flatly and instantly. He meant them.

George agreed with his twin. He would never be able to do to his future wife what Arthue had done to Molly. But that didn't mean that he couldn't understand his dad. It wasn't always easy to live with Molly Weasley, nobody knew that better than her twin sons. Maybe back then, his dad hadn't had as much resistance against his wife's temper than he had now. Maybe Arthur had only been intrigued by attracting a grown woman. Maybe even he had been the initiator and had seduced his professor.

Both twins stared at each other, clearly having arrived at the same conclusion at the same time. They both made faces and shook themselves. But stopped mid-shake. McG might be their former professor but she was also a woman, and quite an attractive one at that. Was it really that unthinkable for anybody to be attracted to her?

No. But still. Their mum had a broken heart and McG was responsible for that. How could the twins forgive her that?


	16. Contemplations: Ginny

**Contemplations: Ginny**

She had become a red-haired menace these days, but she didn't care. Hissing and spitting at anyone who was foolish enough to talk to her, Ginny drove everybody far away from her. She wanted to scream. Kick. Throw things. Destroy.

But most importantly she wanted to curse Minerva bloody McGonagall into the next century.

Raging within, Ginny paced her rooms and occasionally kicked at her bedpost. Everywhere she looked she saw McGonagall's face, adorned with a sneer any Malfoy would be proud of.

She had lost all respect for her teacher. With everything going on, a war and Harry in the midst of it with Ron and Hermione, she had not needed even more bad news. Everything was just one big mess, and Minerva McGonagall was responsible for it. She was the one who had single-handedly wrecked everything. Her family, her anchor in all the chaos, her safe haven. For that she would make the woman pay!


	17. Trial Separation

**Trial Separation**

Arthur carried Molly to the bed and laid her down, removing her shoes and clothes, and allowing her to sleep. He tidied away the items of clothing she had thrown about the room, replaced his shirts in the closet, and, checking she still slept, took a shower. It was only then that he allowed his own tears to fall, an odd mix of guilt for hurting her so very much, pain at the words she had spoken to him, and the fact she didn't really trust him – perhaps she never had. But beneath that there was relief, finally all the worry was over, he was in the clear.

oOoOoOo

Molly slowly awoke to a soft snoring sound near her right ear. Turning slowly and cautiously, so she wouldn't wake the other person, she came face to face with Arthur. She jerked away from him violently, ending up falling out of the bed. Shrieking and thrashing against the tangled sheets, Molly landed on her back with a now wide-awake Arthur staring down on her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked witheringly, glaring at Arthur. With a last tug she was finally free of the sheet, only to throw it over herself again with a shriek. She had discovered she was only in her underwear.

"This is my room too ... we are still married ..." Arthur began but Molly interrupted him viciously.

She watched with interest from somewhere outside her body, as her arm lifted and drew back, and felt a sense of vague approval as her hand struck his cheek with enough force that he flinched back onto the pillows.

"No we are not anymore." She hadn't even thought of saying anything and was surprised to feel the words in her mouth, cool and clear.

Suddenly she was back in her body. She felt as though she wore a corset; her ribs ached with the effort to breathe. Liquid surged in every direction; blood and sweat and tears – if she did draw breath, her skin would give way and let it all spurt out, like the contents of a broken glass.

She had no bones. But she had will. That alone held her upright and saw her out the door. She didn't see the corridor or realized that she was stumbling towards the room of her daughter. She arrived breathless and just managed to close and lock the door before she felt her legs wobble. She let go, ending on her back among the clothes on the floor. She blinked hard, unshed tears sliding down her temples.

"Bloody, bloody, bloody hell," she said very softly. "Now what?"

oOoOoOo

It was nearly dark when he came. His wand was out – evidence that he had soundlessly unlocked the door without her even noticing. She hadn't even heard his footsteps on the other side. He was just there, suddenly, at the edge of her vision.

He sat quiet close to Molly then, arms wrapped about his knees, and stared into the distance. He breathed long and deep, as though he had been walking for some time, and rubbed away a drop of moisture that dripped from the end of his nose. Once or twice, he took a shorter breath, as though about to say something, but didn't.

"I _do_ hope you were planning to say something," she said finally, politely. "Because if you don't, I'll probably start screaming, and I might not be able to stop."

He made a sound somewhere between amusement and dismay, and sank his face into the palms of his hands. He stayed that way for a moment, then rubbed his hands hard over his face and sat up, sighing.

"I have been thinking all the time I was searching for you what in Merlin's name I should say when I found you. I thought of one thing and another – and ... there seemed nothing whatever I _could_ say." He sounded helpless.

"How is that?" Molly asked, a distinct edge in her voice. "I could think of a few things to say, I daresay."

He sighed, and made a brief gesture of frustration. "What? To say I was sorry – that's not right. I _am _sorry, but to say so – we found that we had so much in common, we … we've developped a very special relationship. We've become very close, Molly."

"I don't believe this." Her anger came back to her and she whipped around to stare at him.

Arthur nodded, a sad expression on his lean face. "Oh, sweetheart. I didn't mean to fall in love with two women, but I did, and I'm very confused. Molly, I … I don't know what to do. At my age I … I can't afford to make the wrong choice," he whispered. "That risk is fine when you are twenty – but what if I and Minerva break it off – then I would be all alone."

Molly couldn't believe her husband's words. This definitely didn't sound like her Arthur. Was he in his midlife crisis? Or was this a deeper-rooted problem? "Choice?" She picked on the first word that came swimming up to her from the wild sea of emotions inside her. "This isn't a pop quiz at school, Arthur. When I think of … of all that we shared and for you not to be sure." Her voice was broken and quiet. She had used up all her emotions for the day. After anger there was always this emptiness.

"I thought that if we could talk about it, we could work something out," Arthur mumbled sheepishly. His eyes behind his thick glasses were unreadable – for the first time in their married life, Molly reflected, she couldn't read her husband like an open book.

"Arthur, if you don't know by now that I'm the only one for you, there's nothing to work out." Somehow she heard the same words her own mother had spoken to her father come out of her mouth. It had all come down to this – history repeating itself.

Arthur's head whipped up and around. "Oh, no, Molly." He opened his mouth again to say more, but Molly had lost her patience. She knew she couldn't be in the same room with this man anymore without falling apart or killing him.

"I just want you to leave."

There the final words were out.

"Molly! Don't …" Arthur made a last attempt to appeal to her. Molly simply turned her head to the side, away from him – away from their life together – from their marriage. She had given up, accepting. Arthur sighed and a single tear slid down his cheek. Silently he got up from the floor and walked to the door with dragging feet. He felt as though the weight of the world was on him.

Molly's voice stopped him with the hand already on the door handle. "Arthur? How'd we end up like this?"

Arthur didn't look back – it would have broken him – and he replied quietly, "I don't know … I honestly don't know. Maybe after a while when we've both had a chance …"

He heard her sigh and nothing could make it clearer to him that his marriage was over. He silently left the room.

oOoOoOo

As the anger subsided, only emptiness remained. Molly stared up at the ceiling with dry, empty eyes. Slowly her hands came up. Her right hand held her wand, the other was empty. Suddenly, with a vicious flick of her wrist, she lashed out and cut her left wrist. Wincing in pain, Molly felt tears prick her eyes and a sigh escaped her. For a terrifying moment she had been afraid that all feeling had left her. Her heart had been ripped out from her body and viciously stomped into the dust.

Everything she had lived and fought for had been taken away from her. She had to accept the fact that Arthur was no longer hers. He had chosen another woman over her – twice now. Nothing was left for her. Emptiness, black and bottomless, swallowed Molly, drowning out all else – even the pain. All she knew was that she couldn't live like that anymore. She had to go on, though, for her children – if not for herself.


End file.
